|11|
"It doesn't make sense," they were in the port bar, sharing the table in the left of the bar's rear where he had watched her for so many years repulsing the efforts of others to win her attention for their needs, "…You sat in here and just watched me, didn't say a word….I still think I was crazy giving you my key, but talk about a gamble paying off," she rolled her hip against his thigh and moved her head to angle in and kiss him.
"You should stop teasing everyone," he wet his lip with a shot of whiskey, placed the glass down and turned his face to the doorway, "…You see every face that comes through the door is going to see you sitting on me the way you are…Let alone you're talking to me, you're going to make it hard for someone who's been watching you all these years not to feel some intense resentment."
"You think someone else like you has been watching me, Casnar?"
He took her hand and kissed it, bending his brow to hers, "…I think this town knows you don't like to mess around with anyone…..Here you are with me, and I'm not from around here, Braith."
"Let me get some more of those Stolhic's and we'll leave, Casnar."
She went to the bar and leaned over the top, saying something over the din to the bartender…The music was on tonight and Verne was at the door to his office keeping an eye on everything, he swung a glance in Casnar's direction.
Braith came back and Casnar picked up the glassware, brought these to Verne who took both cups with a nod and tossed these into a tub, "…Thanks, Soterios, mind your step heading home tonight."
"Thanks, Verne, how's Tripto," he smiled as the salarian waved it off, "…Still no hope for him?"
"Still trying to make a start in Denver," Verne admitted, "…Decade later….How's your nephew….Still on Rakhana?"
"With the rest of the rabble, I hope."
"Make sure you go visit your mom and dad someday, Soterios," Verne nodded to Braith as she came over to collect her man, "…Take care of this troublemaker too."
"Hey, Verne, you keeping my poison in stock," she waggled her fingers as her other hand held a bottle neck.
"I can't believe he kisses you with that breath….Wait, that's his, my bad," Verne chuckled as Casnar shook his head and led her out. "That poison should have killed you already," he called after her, "…I'm going to keep supplying it since sometimes it's all about the dose….And a lot of patience."
She stepped out of her boots back home in the house at 89, and Casnar slipped off his shirt and unclipped his overalls to switch into some clothes he'd brought from his place.
They didn't bother dressing after taking showers again, getting ready for night, pulling off the covers to change the sheets….Having her arms over his neck, he moved with her hips calling him in rhythm with the music from the bar still playing in their heads.
She called out in the night, waking him suddenly as he lay next to her. "Cas—Moon," she trembled next to him, but Casnar was out of the bed and down the stairs, back up with the bottle in hand—she was shaking as the first time and he had to support the bottle at her lips. "It's going to be a hard one," she managed to warn before the eyes went wide, squeezed shut, and she started to shudder.
"Is there any way to avoid this?"
The seizing came and all he could do was keep her on the bed and make sure she was safe, and when it passed after a long fifteen minutes, he felt drained from just having to watch and bear through it. Afterwards, her body was quieted, her eyes were still closed, but she was breathing shallow and short for a time before it evened out, and Casnar lay next to her staring at her serene profile in the light of sulfur through the windows.
The morning came and Casnar was up first bright and early…He cleaned her brush for the paint and checked the contents and the level in the paint can, took a jog to the shop and came back with some paints, small cans meant for body touch up.
He popped the lids with a driver, recovered them to not let the paint dry, and went down into the kitchen to make something to eat. It was a while before he heard any floorboards creaking and Braith may have gotten out of bed, but she didn't come down the stairs if he was paying one hundred percent attention—and he was—so after a few minutes of waiting and hearing nothing more, he set aside the pot onto some cork and went up the stairs to find her.
She was sitting on the floor in the corner with her back leaned towards the wall, painting with the brush and the rest of the gray paint, the new cans left untouched in their scattered row.
"Thanks for the paints and cleaning my brush….It has to be gray or silver, but when I move on, I'll need some green if you have any," she turned and sat her shoulders back over her hips on the floor, gazing up at him and following him from the stairs where he had been peeping at her below the bottom step and now crossed to sit next to her.
"You feeling all right after last night?"
"I'm all right…" She could see the wear in his eyes, "….Are you all right?"
He shrugged, "…Maybe a little tired, worried, confused by it all, and here you are, so I guess there's just until the next bout….Was it a dream?"
"Maybe…I actually don't think dream or vision or sight is what it is, Casnar…I don't know what it is that would properly describe what's happened to me….Been happening all these years, baby," she leaned into him and kissed his cheek, the stiff part of his skin he and one other had minded to inform her was the patak plate of their faces which held more flexible tissue to make them able to express through facial nuances.
His "pa'tahk" shifted into a tense frown at the moment, "…I don't think the Phedyl helped for very long….And this moonshine shit," he said it with disdain, "…It might help you as you claim, but I don't see a sip doing anything or the entire bottle for that matter…I think you need help, Braith, and I'd like to see if we can go into Nederlinds and find a doctor….Plus you're probably in need of some routine care in general."
She went back to painting a flying bridge, one that jutted across a span of space over more joinings and would connect, he assumed, to the next structure she'd painted vertical to its partner across the way.
"I don't think they'd know what to do with me, Casnar…and as for routine maintenance…I haven't needed anything for fifteen years….I don't even get a period anymore."
