Chapter Eight: We Must Carry It with Us
Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters from The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest. They all belong to Hanna-Barbara. However, this story is mine, as are all the characters seen here that did not appear on the show.
Neela spoke first, asking Madhu to inform the cook that they would have two more guests for dinner. "I think it would be best if we ate in the small formal dining room, also." As Madhu turned to obey, the sultan's mother turned back to her nearly forgotten task, surveying Jessie's feet critically before going back to work. "Well, my dear, we are nearly finished," she said as she carefully applied henna paste to the design Madhu had started on Jessie's right foot.
"May I see your hands?" Hiranmayi asked Jessie.
"Of course," Jessie answered, extending them toward the other young woman.
Hiranmayi examined them carefully and perused the traditional designs that had been painstakingly placed on Jessie's skin. "Lovely," she commented. "Lotus for beauty and grace, vines for devotion, and raindrops for the affection of a woman. Did you do these, Your Highness?"
Neela smiled. "Actually, Madhu did. She is a wonderful artist." She drew the final line carefully and set the half-full henna cone aside. "I am finished, Jessie. Let me get a mirror so that you can see the soles of your feet." She rose gracefully from her place on the floor and went into the bathroom.
While she was gone, Jessie held her legs straight out before her and inspected the tops of her feet. She saw a six pointed star in the center surrounded by tiny flowers and more vines. Along the sides of her feet were rows of wave-like lines. "Do all the designs mean something?" She asked Hiranmayi.
"No," the young actress replied, "but many of them do. The Satkona," and here she indicated the star pattern, "is the union of the feminine and masculine aspects of life. The small blossoms stand for happiness, and waves—"
"I found your hand mirror, Jessie," Neela announced as she came back into the room. "Look at what I have done and tell me what you think." She knelt before Jessie once more and angled the mirror so that Jessie could see the bottoms of her feet. In the center of each sole were a stylized swan and scorpion facing each other within a circle, forming a sort of yin-yang shape. Two concentric rings filled with alternating hatch marks surrounded the center design, and the rest of the space on her heels and the balls of her feet were filled with more vines, as well as swirls, dots, and tiny paisley designs. The bottom of each toe was decorated with a miniature crescent moon or star.
Jessie looked at Neela with a slightly puzzled look on her face. "It's really pretty, but is that a—scorpion?"
Hiranmayi and her aunt both leaned in closer to get a better look. "That is a most unusual pattern, Your Highness," Bhairavi finally commented. "Is that also the work of your maid?"
"No," Neela replied. "I designed it myself. I thought it was quite striking." She got to her feet once more. "I think I shall sketch it on a sheet of paper and have Madhu use it the next time I have my feet done. Enter," she called at the knock on the door, and smiled as Madhu entered. "Would you ladies like to have mehndi done? I'm sure Madhu would be happy to oblige, and you see how skilled she is."
Both women agreed, and Jessie reflected that the cheerful, excited chatter that followed would have made all the men in her life run for cover—even her dad, who was something of a "connoisseur of women," to put it politely. While Madhu began to draw a profusion of flowering vines around Hiranmayi's left ankle, Neela mixed up a sweet-smelling concoction of lemon juice and sugar, which she dabbed onto the designs on Jessie's hands and feet every few minutes.
"This will make the stain darker," Neela explained as she glanced over at the pattern the maid had created for the Minister's daughter. "Madhu, perhaps a butterfly above her ankle? You make beautiful butterflies."
"I think that would look very nice," Bhairavi added, nodding her head and causing her short black curls to bounce a little. She was a friendly, handsome woman on the far side of forty.
"Please, I would like that very much," Hiranmayi added sweetly, and Madhu complied.
Bhairavi began to reminisce about her bridal shower, telling the younger women that she'd had to sit virtually motionless for nearly eight hours while her female relatives applied henna paste to her feet and legs up to her knees and on her hands up to her elbows. Neela confirmed that her wedding mehndi had taken nearly that long.
Jessie looked at them a little dubiously. "I don't think I could stand that. I've been feeling fidgety for the last hour. I think I'd jump out of my skin if I tried to hold still for that long."
"It is difficult," Bhairavi agreed, "especially when one is so excited already, but all of my female relatives were there: my mother and grandmothers, my sister and cousins and all of my aunts and good friends. We talked and laughed and ate, and they teased me mercilessly about what my marriage would be like." She sighed, "It was wonderful."
The party or your marriage? Jessie wondered, but it didn't seem appropriate to ask, especially considering the dreamy look in Bhairavi's brown eyes.
"Did your husband find his initials in your mehndi?" Neela asked, bringing Hiranmayi's aunt back to the present.
"No, he never did, though the pattern lasted three weeks." She smiled. "Every night he looked so carefully, but he never found them." Her eyes became bright with unshed tears, and she continued softly, "He was such a gentle man. I've always suspected that he knew where they were and chose not to tell me, just so that I could have the upper hand in our marriage." She gave a watery laugh and dabbed at her eyes with a pink handkerchief she'd pulled from the pocket of her slacks. "It would have been so like him to do that."
"Aunt Bhairavi was widowed four years ago when my uncle was killed in an automobile accident," Hiranmayi said into the brief silence.
Bhairavi picked up the story. "The lorry driver who struck his car never stopped, according to witnesses, but he was arrested and convicted all the same by the Mysore police. I still miss Dayanand, but now I have my dress shop and my niece to keep me occupied."
Neela smiled softly and held her right hand out to Bhairavi. The woman took it with an expression of gratitude as Hadji's mother said, "We never really stop missing our husbands, do we? But with time, the pain becomes bearable. We can only live as worthy a life as we are able, with the hope that we will be reunited with them when our turn comes."
Jessie lowered her gaze to her lap, both touched and disconcerted by this admission from the sultan's mother. She had not realized that Neela missed the late sultan so much; after all, it had been sixteen years since his death. Maybe Hadji recognizes this, and it's one of the reasons he feels he can't leave, she thought. She looked to her left and met Hiranmayi's eyes; Jessie imagined that the slightly uncomfortable expression on the actress' face mirrored her own.
Hadji's mother released Bhairavi's hand and looked toward the young women sitting next to each other on the bench, remarking, "I only hope that neither of these beautiful girls will ever understand what we are talking about."
Bhairavi nodded and touched her niece's shoulder. "I pray to all the gods that you will someday have a long and happy marriage with a man about whom you can care."
Hiranmayi blushed a little and seemed to find a great deal of interest in what Madhu was doing with the henna paste.
"Well," Neela said briskly, "we have all become a bit maudlin, have we not? Let us talk about something else—something more cheerful!"
"Well," the minister's daughter began, apparently relieved by the change of subject, "my aunt and I spent the morning shopping. I wish my father had not insisted that Tungesh accompany me yesterday. I saw almost nothing, especially with the time we spent searching—"She broke off, looking a little embarrassed. "I did not mean to be rude, Miss Bannon…"
Jessie sighed inwardly. "You have nothing to apologize for, Miss Hiranya. And please, call me Jessie, both of you."
Hiranmayi gave a small smile. "Then you may call me Hiranmayi, if you wish."
"Very well," Hadji's mother interjected into the short silence. "Now, tell us about your shopping, ladies."
It was seven o'clock when Hadji knocked on Jessie's door yet again. He heard the chattering and laughter stop abruptly, and a moment later, Madhu opened the door. She tried to subdue a smile as she greeted him, but she was not entirely successful. When she stepped back into the room to let him enter, he saw that the other four women were smiling at each other. He felt, for a brief moment, as if he had just entered into an intensely female, henna-scented realm in which he was an intruder.
The four women looked at him expectantly. "Good evening, my son," Neela said serenely, not bothering to hide her smile. "Is it dinnertime already?"
"It is," he replied, "or nearly so." His gaze took in the Hiranmayi, her aunt, and his guest. All three of them had beautiful henna patterns on various parts of their bodies, although Jessie's were the most elaborate, he noticed as his gaze lingered on her. "I see you have been quite productive."
"Indeed we have," Neela confirmed. "Shall we go to dinner?" She asked as she got to her feet.
"Just a moment, Jessie," Hadji said when he saw her move to put her feet, which had been propped up on a stool, on the floor. He waited until everyone had left the room, then he crouched beside her. "Put your arms around my neck," he instructed, as he slipped his arms behind her shoulders and beneath her legs.
"Your mother said I could walk if I were careful," she protested.
"You do not want to take the chance of destroying all of the work my mother and Madhu have done, do you?" He said as he lifted her from the bench, forcing her to hold on to him for balance.
She awkwardly hooked her left arm over his shoulder to avoid getting henna paste on his soft, charcoal-colored cotton shirt, propped her right hand on her knee, then held one foot higher than the other to keep them from rubbing together. "You know how weird this is for me, right?" She asked as he moved across the room.
He paused in the center of the room and lowered his head so that his mouth was near her ear. "What I know is that this is a good way to keep up the tale that you came through yesterday's misadventure unscathed," he murmured. "It would not do for Hiranmayi or her aunt to notice—or worse, comment—on the fact that you seem to be in some amount of pain. Perhaps you do not realize how stiffly you have been moving about."
Jessie flushed—not as a result of Hadji's words, but because of the way her insides flip-flopped when his breath feathered over her skin. "I—" she began, just as Neela put her head around the door.
"What is the delay, Hadji?" She asked. Her eyebrows lifted when she saw the two young people with their heads together. "You do have guests waiting."
Hadji straightened. "We are coming, Mother," he replied as he moved to the door.
Hiranmayi and Bhairavi exchanged glances when they saw the sultan with Jessie in his arms, but they said nothing, only waited for him to precede them in the hall. Neela followed him with the two ladies beside her, and Madhu trailed behind, carrying the footstool she had retrieved from Jessie's room. As they moved silently down the corridors of the palace, Jessie had to resist the urge to squirm away from Hadji, so strong was her embarrassment at being carried by him. She peeked over Hadji's shoulder to see Hiranmayi gazing intently at the sultan's back, but the other woman looked at the floor when Jessie caught her eye.
"Hold still," Hadji said softly, as she moved back to her previous position, "or I may drop you."
She returned her gaze to his face, which was only visible to her in profile since he was watching where he was going. "You're just kidding, right?" She asked quietly as he halted a moment to shift her a bit higher in his arms.
"You would not like to find out, would you?" He whispered in reply.
"It wasn't my idea to be carted around like this," Jessie muttered, but she held still all the same.
Upon reaching the Small Dining Room, a serving man pulled out the chair to the left of the head of the ornately-inlaid dining table. Hadji placed Jessie in the chair, and Madhu arranged the footstool beneath the table so Jessie could keep her feet off the floor. Jessie was glad that no one could see how slowly she moved while she carefully propped her feet up one at a time. Just another reminder of how important stomach muscles are, Jessie thought. She glanced around the room, its spacious dimensions—three times the size of the Maine compound's dining room—reminding her that size was relative. She recognized the teal wall-paper with its rich navy and gold-leaf floral design and realized that she'd been here before, probably on her last visit to the palace. She took a moment to admire the dark wood crown molding along the tops of the walls and the dense navy carpeting that was punctuated with beautiful old oriental rugs. There were several oil paintings of apparently wealthy Indians hanging on the walls, but she didn't recognize any of the people. She wondered briefly if any of them were Hadji's ancestors. When she focused back on the people around her, she noticed that Neela was sitting on Hadji's right with Bhairavi beside her, and Hiranmayi had taken the seat on Jessie's left.
"I ordered the servants to set the table informally since this dinner party was not planned," Neela explained as she gestured around at the seating arrangements. "I hope none of you minds."
"Everything is lovely, Your Highness," Bhairavi replied. "I never thought to see the interior of your palace, much less have a meal here. This has been an eventful day for me."
The sultan's mother smiled gently. "You are a welcome guest, Mrs. Sarasvat." She turned and signaled to the servants as she said, "Now, let us eat."
The food, as always, was delicious. Tonight the palace kitchen had provided traditional delicacies form Karnataka. From her previous visits, Jessie knew to eat the vegetarian cuisine with her right hand only, and she held a fork carefully with her fingertips to avoid damaging the henna on her hands. She found it somewhat awkward but still doable.
Hadji kept most of his attention on Hiranmayi as they all shared a meal of vegetables in yogurt sauce, lentils and rice, and a chickpea stew that was full of wonderfully aromatic spices. Jessie did her best not to feel jealous even as she reminded herself that she had absolutely nothing to feel jealous about—really! He's only trying to get her to reveal some kind of information, right? She told herself as she stared at her bowl of stew. Still, it is kind of awkward to be talked across as if I weren't here…She came out of her thoughts with a start as something bumped the stool upon which her feet rested. She looked across the table at Neela, but the sultan's mother was deep in conversation with Bhairavi. She glanced toward Hadji as he took a bite of food, and his eyes flicked in her direction briefly before they moved back to Hiranmayi, who was apparently answering a question Hadji had asked.
"—when I told my father that I wanted to go shopping yesterday, he ordered my brother to escort me. Tungesh had already made plans for the day, but he was forced to cancel."
"It is a pity, then, that you did not get to do much shopping after we were separated from Jessie and Tungesh."
Hiranmayi shook her head. "Tungesh and I had already been out for nearly two hours when he recognized Jessie and insisted we stop to greet her." She laughed a little as she continued, "We certainly did not recognize you, Your Highness." Hadji smiled at her, which she apparently took as a signal to continue talking. "To be honest with you, I did not begin to enjoy myself until we met the two of you. My brother pretends to be polite and charming when he wishes to, but when it is just the two of us, he complains often and about nearly everything…" She paused and sipped at her glass of chilled white grape juice before continuing. "Actually, I told my father that I was willing to wait until Aunt Bhairavi was available to accompany me, but he said that if I were going, I might as well have gone then." She set the cut-crystal goblet back on the table and smiled prettily as she said, "Things did not work out as I planned, but I do not mind going shopping two days in a row."
"Indeed?" Hadji prodded.
Hiranmayi glanced at Jessie. "I was alarmed when Jessie became lost and disappointed that Tungesh would not allow me to help you search for her. I overheard him speaking to my father as I passed by the study, and he told my father that your guest had been lost for hours before she was found."
"I wonder where he would have gotten such an idea," Hadji commented in a mild tone. As he gazed at the minister's daughter, his mouth curved in a small, amused smile.
Jessie said nothing, but she paid close attention while trying to appear as if she was not especially interested in what Hiranmayi was saying.
Hiranmayi, who seemed to be a little flustered at receiving such direct and uninterrupted attention from the sultan, went on in a rush, "It is apparent to me now that he must have fabricated the tale in order to avoid our father's disapproval, for we were a bit late returning home, and my father is very insistent that his wishes be followed at all times."
"Well, your brother's tale is of little consequence," Hadji said decisively. "Everything turned out well in the end." He looked around the table, and this time his smile—now open and relaxed—was directed at all of the women. "Would you ladies like to have dessert? I understand our chef has prepared gajar halwa."
That's it? Jessie wondered. That's all he's going to say? I wonder what I missed.
"I love gajar halwa," Bhairavi exclaimed over Jessie's contemplations.
"It is my favorite dessert," Neela replied
"That's something I've never had," Jessie admitted, "but I'd love to try it."
With a gesture, Hadji directed a servant to bring the last course in. Gajar halwa turned out to be a kind of carrot pudding mixed with almonds in saffron-flavored milk. It superficially resembled the carrot and raisin salad Jessie had eaten at family reunions and pot-luck picnics, but the saffron in it made it taste quite different. She decided as she observed Bhairavi and Neela eating with apparent delight that while she found the flavor pleasant, it would never replace the pleasure she got from eating a slice of Mrs. Evans' pineapple upside-down cake.
After coffee and a few more minutes of idle conversation, Hiranmayi and Bhairavi decided that they should go since it was nearing nine o'clock, and they planned to drive to Bhairavi's home in Mysore that night. Hadji directed a servant to bring the ladies' car to the entrance, and he left his chair as they all said their goodbyes.
"I had so much fun today," Hiranmayi bubbled. "I wish we could spend more time together, Jessie."
"Maybe we can," Jessie replied with a smile, "if Hadji hasn't already planned my whole week out for me! I've been told he's got a mysterious adventure set up for tomorrow, but I don't know what the rest of my week will be like. Maybe we can arrange something?" She asked, turning to look at the sultan.
"Perhaps," Hadji replied noncommittally. "Now, allow me to escort you out—"
"I will do it, my son," Neela interrupted in a serene voice. "You need to see to Jessie—I don't want her to ruin her mehndi after all the time Madhu and I put into it!"
Hadji bowed to his mother to indicate his obedience, and waited as everyone but Madhu, who stood unobtrusively near the door, left the room before he spoke again. "What would you like to do now?" He asked, his tone light.
Jessie pondered for a moment, wondering exactly how she should answer. She decided to respond in kind and answered playfully, "Well, we could play a board game…"
"You do not want to rest?" He inquired.
"Not particularly. I feel as if I've been sleeping all day—after all, I didn't really get up until noon!"
He nodded and moved around the table to stand by her side as he said, "I do not believe that we have any board games, but I do have a PlayStation 2 in my sitting room. It was my birthday gift from Jonny last year."
"No Questworld for you, huh?" Jessie asked as she smiled up at him.
He found himself inexplicably fascinated by the line of her neck and shoulder and had to quell an urge to trace it with his fingers. "There would be no point," he reminded her as he forced his eyes to meet hers, "since there is no one here who has been trained to log me on and off." He shrugged a little as he added, "Besides, I don't really have a great deal of time to spend in such pursuits."
Jessie shook her head at him. "Fun, Hadji, fun! Remember? It's something you have to make time for!" She lifted a hand to emphasize her point, then realized that she wouldn't be able to handle a game controller while she was wearing fresh mendhi.
She said as much to Hadji, who replied, "If you like, we can watch a movie instead. I have not done that for quite a while."
"Okay." She shifted in her chair in preparation to stand, but was forced to sit back when Hadji put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. She looked up at him inquiringly.
"No walking, remember?" He said, then pulled her chair out and crouched down beside it.
"But—" she began.
"Put your arms around my neck," he commanded as he prepared to lift her. She complied although she wasn't especially thrilled about doing so, and after she had arranged herself much in the same way she had earlier in the evening, he proceeded to carry her from the dining room while Madhu trailed a discreet distance behind them with the footstool in her hands.
As he strode down the hall, she looked at his face and admired his profile before commenting, "This really isn't necessary, you know. I can walk, and I would actually—" Jessie broke off when Hadji stopped suddenly and turned his gaze to hers.
One corner of his mouth was turned up with amusement as he said, "Perhaps I am enjoying this, Jessie. You know—fun." His smile softened, and he gazed affectionately at her for just a moment before looking away.
Jessie was rendered speechless, her mind a complete blank. She could do nothing for a good few minutes but stare at Hadji as he resumed the walk to his quarters.
Hadji did not look at her again as he moved, but he commented thoughtfully, "I am reminded of when Emerson said, 'no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself.'"
"Ooo-kay…" Jessie said, raising one eyebrow. "I don't get how I'm helping you, especially when I don't really need you to do this for me, but…um…okay…"
Hadji laughed, starting to realize, if only just a little, why Jonny delighted in teasing Jessie so much. They had reached his quarters, and he paused while Madhu opened the door for him so that he could carry Jessie into his sitting room. Surprisingly, it was decorated in Swedish contemporary in a palette of cool blues and grays, but it still retained something of the exotic courtesy of the arched windows and doorframes and the mosaic tile work around these apertures. Hadji walked across the room and placed his guest gently on an overstuffed navy blue suede sofa that occupied what looked to be the exact center of the room and which faced the large, blocky television cabinet. He didn't release her immediately, interrupting her thoughts when he remarked, "Emerson also said, 'Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us, or we find it not.'"
Jessie's cheeks turned pink yet again, but she didn't pretend to misunderstand him. Meeting his eyes, she said, "I'm… pretty sure he didn't mean that literally…"
He bestowed her with a playful, almost wicked smile and replied, "It is generally agreed that the words of literary men, especially poets and philosophers, are open to interpretation."
"I—um…" She faltered under the force of his regard and decided to change the subject. "What do you think about the conversation Hiranmayi said she overheard?"
Releasing her at last, Hadji sank down into the soft, puffy cushions at the opposite end of the sofa and draped his left arm over the back of it as he turned to face her. The notion that he would rather put his arm—or better yet, both arms—around her crossed his mind, but he squashed it ruthlessly. Even though she seemed uncomfortable with his teasing, he could not seem to help himself. He supposed it was because he had never before had any inclination to flirt with her during all the years that he had known her, and if he were honest with himself, it was probably not the best idea for him to do so now. He watched silently, to all appearances at his ease, as Madhu settled Jessie with the footstool once more. Then the maid drew a small white pill bottle from one of the folds of her pink cotton sari and offered it to the sultan.
The doctor said these would ease her pain and help her rest, Madhu explained in Hindu.
Hadji took them with a nod. I will see Jessie to her room later, he answered in the same language, which Madhu correctly interpreted as a command to leave them alone. As the maid left the room, Hadji focused on Jessie's face and saw that she was looking at him expectantly. "She gave me your medication," he explained as he examined the label, and then he raised his eyes to hers with a smile. "Why did she give them to me, I wonder? Have you been giving her a difficult time?"
Jessie looked at her lap as a slightly guilty expression settled on her face. "I don't like them." Realizing how childish that sounded, she went on to clarify, "They take the pain away, but they make me feel sleepy. I don't know why, but I can't help feeling like I want to stay alert, even though I know I'm safe here."
"That is a natural reaction," Hadji agreed, "but I promise that you are safe within the palace walls. Now," he continued, adopting a stern expression, "I believe you should follow the doctor's orders. Are you in any pain?"
"A little," she admitted grudgingly, from which Hadji discerned that she was suffering a great deal more discomfort than she was letting on.
"Then take one so that you will have an excuse if you fall asleep, and I will not have to admit that I am a less-than-engrossing conversationalist."
Jessie laughed, then pressed a hand against her sore stomach. "That wasn't very nice," she complained, but she held her other hand out for the pills and said no more about it as she swallowed one tablet with the help of some bottled water Hadji pulled from a small mini-fridge that was hidden in a cabinet near his apparently unused desk. She then sat back with a sigh and reminded him that he hadn't answered her earlier question.
"I think," he replied, "that Hiranmayi told us the truth. I especially agree with the comments she made about her brother's character. What I cannot decide is why she said what she said. Is she trying to implicate her father and brother in some sort of conspiracy, or is she merely carelessly repeating what she heard? Furthermore, could it really be a coincidence that Tungesh claimed you were lost 'for hours' in the city only as an excuse for being late?" Hadji paused and rubbed his chin with his thumb as he thought. "I wish we could know the rest of Tungesh's conversation with his father."
"Yeah, it's too bad that Hiranmayi didn't hear the rest of what they said," Jessie commented.
"What makes you think that she did not?" Hadji queried. "I do not recall her saying that she had not or could not have heard more."
Jessie nibbled her bottom lip as she thought back to what she'd heard at dinner. "You're right. So," she continued, shifting a little in her spot on the sofa, "is she clueless or just a very good actress?"
"You know, I have no idea," he replied, "never having watched the program she appears in, but I have long believed that Hiranmayi is not as unintelligent as she appears to be. Still, the situation bears looking into. I plan to have a brief interview with Tungesh when I go into work tomorrow, and I may talk with Minister Hiranya as well. We shall see what happens then."
"I'll keep my eyes open, too," Jessie said. "I would really like a chance to spend some time alone with her, but I don't know how we could arrange it."
"There really is not much time since you will be here only four more days." Hadji felt sad as he realized how soon she would be leaving him, and he decided at that moment that he would not let another eighteen months pass before he saw her again. "There may not even be much of a point. I cannot believe that there is anything more sinister to this situation than, perhaps, pointless youthful malice, in which case I would not expect anything else to go wrong. I do not see what kind of motive someone might have to target you in such a way."
Jessie, remembering the look of disgust on Tungesh's face as he'd shouted at her, nodded her head. Hadji was probably right, and what she'd been through was only a result of coincidence combined with the bad attitude of a teenage boy. "I don't see it either. I don't have any enemies in this neck of the woods as far as I know," she said, only half-jokingly.
Hadji got up from the couch and opened the television cabinet. "What do you think of her now that you've spent some time with her?" He asked, his back to her.
"I like her a lot, to be honest with you," answered Jessie, looking around as she spoke. She had never been in this room, and while she found the décor to be soothing, it also seemed rather impersonal. There were no photographs on the white walls, and none of the pale wood surfaces seemed to have anything more than vases or bowls of flowers on them. She felt as if she'd walked into a hotel room. She compared it to his room back home and reflected that, while his old room was always neat, it definitely looked lived in. Come to think of it, she mused, I don't think he took all that much with him when he left us. "I think she's sweet and very eager-to-please, and it was amazing to me how she blossomed when she was away from her father." Jessie looked away from Hadji and toward the door to the balcony.
"I have also noticed that," Hadji replied as he picked through a shelf full of DVDs. "What do you want to see?"
"Something funny. I don't care what, as long as it's not stupid funny," Jessie said.
"As you wish," He answered as he turned around, a DVD case in his hand. He showed her the cover and she laughed with pleasure as she saw the title was The Princess Bride.
"I love that movie! I can't believe you have a copy!"
Hadji smiled as he turned to put the movie in the player. "There is no rule that I know of that says a man cannot enjoy a movie that has 'princess' in the title. My favorite part has always been the sword fight at the top of the cliff." He started the movie, then settled back in his place on the couch to watch it.
Three-quarters of the way through the movie, during which the pair shared observations and opinions about the various characters and situations, Jessie fell asleep, so Hadji scooped her up and carried her to her room, for once without any protests on her part. When he placed her on her bed under the watchful eyes of Madhu, Jessie rolled to her side, and Hadji got a good look at the soles of her feet for the first time that day. The swan-and-scorpion design caught his eye immediately, and he was a little puzzled by it at first. He leaned in for a closer look, but Madhu began shooing him, so he left Jessie's room, pondering the symbolism of the pattern on her feet while he walked. He sighed softly when he recalled that the swan a symbol of success and the scorpion stood for romantic love, equivalent to the Cupid's Arrow. To whom are you sending a message, Mother? He mused. Shaking his head, his went back to his rooms and got ready to go to sleep.
Showered and dressed in thin cotton pajamas in a soothing deep green color, Hadji sat on the edge of his huge, carved, teak four-poster bed, and, as he did every night, picked up the photograph that rested on the night table. It was a group photograph of himself, Jonny, and Jessie taken during one or another of their family camping trips when they were all still in high school. His gaze lingered on the smiling image of Jessie, who had not even been old enough to drive when the picture had been taken. I want to remember her as she is now, he thought, and made a mental note to bring his camera with him tomorrow. Replacing the picture on the carved and inlaid nightstand, he lay down and slept.
Author's Note: At long last, I have completed another chapter. I'd like to apologize for the long delay to anyone who's been waiting for an update, although after all this time, I don't imagine there are many of you left. My life has changed so much in the last couple of years that this just had to be put on the back burner, but I never forgot about it. I won't go into detail about all the things that have happened, but the biggest (and by far the best) is that my husband and I now have a son—who is soon to be a year old—and for any of you who have children, you know what an adjustment that is!
But to get back to the point, in addition to finishing this chapter, which had been half-written for a couple of years, I've spent the last few months picking up on my research, doing some moderate revisions to strengthen plotlines and increase the authenticity and depth of the descriptions and doing a great deal of polishing to improve flow and clarity, so I suggest that past readers start from the beginning to see what's different. Of course, it's been so long that most of you will have to do that anyway, just to remember what's already happened!
I can't make any promises as to when Chapter Nine is going to be out, but please believe me when I say that I'll get it done as soon as I can. I have a couple of excellent pre-readers (if that's the correct term?) whose eagerness is helping me to keep on top of this, so I don't foresee that I'll drop the ball again (unless I have absolutely no other choice—stuff happens, you know?)
It has been a long time, but I'd still like to offer a !Thank You! to everyone who reviewed Chapter Seven: Morgan Skye, Chihuahua, renisanz, Wenxina, Palin 1, Echo, Andrea, Kris Davis, Jema, jawdm, Awed and waiting for more (no joke!), big fan, Scarlet Azalea, dianna, Thorn on a Rose, and finally, DangerSwitch. I didn't realize how long that list was! Wow, you guys, you're all so great!
