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“There is one particularly curious tradition which has endured, somehow, for so long that hardly anyone outside serious scholars has any clue how old it really is. We all know the use of ‘tying the knot’ as a synonym for marriage; but most young people on and around the Greater Continent will reference specific numbers of knots as a euphemism for intimate acts. One knot for ‘kissing’, and so forth. Such societal touchstones are common, but what makes this one especially unusual is that it dates clear back to the Golden Age, almost ten thousand years before the New Day. In the original form, a complex code of knotted colored fabric was used in courtship traditions. The code and the fabric slowly faded away, but the number of knots somehow endured six thousand years of social change, three thousand years of brutal repression, and is still forgotten completely by everyone over thirty.”
- Scarlet Jusenkyou, page 23 of a 10 page history report.
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Chapter 26:
Passing Through
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#26.1 – The 3rd Day of the 11th Month…
Due to Hansel’s precarious parking job, Scarlet and Relend had to get in on the same side and slide across the back seat. Scarlet made the mistake of jumping in first, and cringed as Relend moved in a lot closer than necessary beside her.
“I know its cold out,” Relend offered. “You can lean against me for warmth.”
“Eww! Gross,” Scarlet wrinkled her nose and pressed against the opposite door.
Hansel struggled his way in by then and Relend backed off a bit but remained uncomfortably near. Scarlet placed her carry-on pack between them and twisted her body to look out the window.
The ride to the DeLaural’s house was short and uneventful. Scarlet met Hansel’s wife, their baby, and tried ineffectually to help Hansel transfer her bags to the smaller of the family’s two cars. “In all honesty, what DO you have in here?” he coughed, heaving the heaviest of the cases.
“Books,” Scarlet admitted. “Journals. Cameras. I’m going to the Citadel ostensibly to study a little bit of magic, but really, I’m on a mission to get an interview with the sorceress Naomi*. She will talk to me. The books are mostly for my own research, but some of its reference. I can start fact-checking anything she says against the historical record right away.”
“Well, you’ll want to do that on a well-rested mind,” Hansel nodded. “No time to sleep here, but your mum suggested after a long day of travel you might like to freshen up with a hot bath. Come on, you can use the kids’ bathroom.”
Scarlet forced a smile and gave Hansel a hearty thumbs up. Her mother always tried to get her to take baths. Since time immortal: “Take a bath, you stink.” “Clean up in a nice bath” “Relax, take a long, hot bath.”
The truth of the matter was, so far as Scarlet was concerned, since you couldn’t read in the tub, you were only wasting time by soaking.
Her own hygiene rituals were deeply personal, and she could scarcely fathom performing them in a stranger’s house even behind locked doors. Family vacations were the worst, seeing as her parents were typically in the next room.
Owing to her intense desire to avoid tasks that precluded keeping a book in one hand, Scarlet had begun taking showers at a young age. Showers were faster than baths. Then, she read about Lancer showers.
On starships they had plenty of water, but not time to bathe. Armies had, since time immortal, used the “navy shower” approach: turn on the water, hop in, get wet, turn the water off. Soap from head to toe, nice and lathered, scrubbing every inch, hair last, shampoo and conditioner in one. Turn the water back on, rinse, and go. She had the whole routine down to seven and a half minutes. And for extra Scarlet Points: if she propped open a book on the bathroom counter, she could get a little reading done while she soaped. Just to encourage herself, she usually took the showers cold to help speed things along.
As Scarlet pondered all this, she looked around the bathroom. It did not look much different from her own, with one sink instead of two, and a curious juxtaposition. A bathtub area decorated with cartoon ducks and rabbits, while around the sink were bottles of hair gel and the various other accoutrements important to teenaged boys. When Relend’s sister got old enough to hate things, she would hate sharing a bathroom.
While both doors were locked, Scarlet noted the handle on the one opposite her jiggle, with movement apparent on the other side. Curious, Scarlet stepped closer to it. The doors had the old-styled large keyholes, of the sort one could see through(or fit a fairy through, if that ever came up). Watching the shadows at the bottom of the door, she could plainly see someone had crouched on the other side.
Scarlet’s hands tightened into fists as she blushed fury-red. From where she stood she couldn’t be seen through the keyhole(also: still fully dressed), but that didn’t make her any less angry. Thinking fast, she snatched an aerosol can of body spray labeled with the name of a medieval weapon or wood cutting implement, and blasted a generous portion of it straight into the keyhole.
The two shadows representing knees quickly disappeared.
After draping a towel over the door knob, Scarlet took a book from her bag, found a comfortable seat on the counter, and read for an hour.
Figuring that had to be long enough, she gathered her things and prepared to head down stairs, but paused for a moment. There had been no sound from the boy’s room, so she cautiously unlatched the door and peered inside.
The place looked empty.
Taking the can of body-spray, Scarlet found a toothpick and jammed the nozzle into the open position, then rolled the canister into the room like a smoke bomb, shutting the door as fast as she could, and questioning why anyone thought such a foul scent would attract girls.
Downstairs, she played with the toddler and talked to Mrs. DeLaural about historical names for a bit, before clambering in to Hansel’s car. He informed her that Relend had rather suddenly ‘gone to a friend’s house’ and didn’t intend on joining them for the final leg of the trip. He gave her a blanket and she leaned the seat back, then slept for the long ride to the boat terminal.
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#26.2 – Saturday, the 9th day of the 11th month…
The five relaxing days aboard the river cruise felt like a heartbeat, and before long, Scarlet found herself standing on the dock in Gau*. The initial plan had been to hail a cab; but there were two problems. The first; the hotel was less than a block away. She could see it plainly. Up the dock, past a warehouse, and in general all of a hundred and fifty yards from where she stood.
Second problem: there were no cabs.
Fortunately, Scarlet had been such a gracious passenger(and paid for a full cruise she only used five days of), that the luggage handlers on the boat were more than happy to carry her bags the short distance to the hotel. Two even waited to see to it she reached her room all right.
Since the hotel had no online booking option(the town looked like it barely had electricity), Scarlet felt some concern she may not be able to get a room. But when she walked up to the front counter, an obese old woman turned away from her TV screen long enough to slam a key on the countertop, inform her of the price, and demand that rent be paid each morning, unless she planned to stay longer.
Scarlet, who already knew she might be there as much as nine days, politely inquired about a week-long rate, and paid the cost in cash, then asked if there were any upcoming guests and if she should reserve her room now.
The old woman merely glared at her.
The kindly luggage handlers brought Scarlet’s bags into her hotel room for her, and she gave them each a generous tip. Not too much; but, then, Scarlet really didn’t know what to pay a man for pushing a cart laden with a half dozen suitcases a reasonable chunk of a mile. She assumed this was the sort of thing they taught you in high school.
The room itself looked dingy. Not dirty or offensively dilapidated, but the walls hadn’t seen a fresh coat of paint in Scarlet’s lifetime. The bedsheets were yellowed with age, but clean. White stitches cut through the fabric’s patina. Scarlet suspected she could be the youngest object in the room.
As far as amenities, ‘bare bones’ didn’t even come close. A bed, a table, a single wobbly chair, and a space where a TV once sat. A board nailed to the wall covered a hole that had once housed the heating and cooling unit. In the bathroom, a hand-written note taped to the cracked mirror over the stained sink politely informed guests that the tap water(cold and cold running) was not potable. A crisp, unopened water bottle sat beside the sink for drinking and brushing teeth.
Initially, when they planned the trip, Roy had opined that perhaps she should pick her route such that she arrived as close to the day the caravan would leave as possible. But Scarlet reminded him that neither the ferry or caravan had fixed schedules, so it would be safer to arrive early.
At the time, she had felt she would be perfectly content to sit in her hotel room and read for nine days. To her, that sounded like an awesome vacation. However, after an indomitable minute and a half… she needed to get out of the room as quickly as possible.
Scarlet grabbed her book and headed for the diner across the street.
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End:
Chapter Twenty-Six17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQs1jVi0AmN
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