The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 14i: Back to Egypt Part 09
A Paul and Jenny story. Copyright 2000 by Paul. All rights reserved. All events and Characters are fictitious. No offence is intended to the living or the dead.
(Especially the dead).
* * * * *
I received questioning glances from the hotel staff when I returned the three empty salt bottles to the condiment's table.
Jenny and Michelle had secured a table for us and we all ordered full breakfasts.
After we had finished eating Michelle fumbled in her bag for a second and produced a packet of American cigarettes that she offered around.
Jenny and I refused but after checking that we didn't mind, she lit one. She sucked deeply on the end of the cigarette making the tip glow red. She had some suction power in those lungs. I imagined what it would be like to be a prick on the receiving end of such a suck. She sucked again. Her cheeks hollowing. I tried to cross my legs under the table, willing my prick to go down. She sucked again, slowly; she held the smoke in her lungs as if savouring the feeling.
Jenny kicked me under the table.
"Paul," she hissed, "stop staring."
I dragged my eyes from the tip of Michelle's cigarette and looked up into her smiling eyes. I was sure she knew what had been going through my mind. She opened her lips so slowly and released a steady stream of smoke. I had to look away. My prick was rock hard.
At the table behind Michelle sat a woman. I could only see her back, but that was worth looking at. She wore a headscarf that was wrapped around the lower half of her face, local fashion; she had to lift it everytime she wanted to drink from her coffee cup.
"I need the john," Michelle said suddenly, stubbing out her cigarette, "coming with me?"
I took it the remark was directed towards Jenny.
"All right," Jenny said standing up, "I'm sure it isn't safe for a girl to go alone in this country."
All right for men, it would seem.
I stood up as they left the table, then resumed my seat and poured myself another cup of coffee. The woman on my right moved quickly into Michelle's chair.
"Quickly," she said, "I don't have much time."
As she spoke she lowered her scarf. It was Helga.
"What do you want?" I asked, instinctively moving away from her.
She looked hurt.
"I have a message to pass to you." She breathed. Her voice was hardly above a whisper. "He is very angry that you did not come to him last night or that you evaded the entity he sent for you. It will come again tonight and every night if you do not follow these instructions. You are to deliver the swords, bracelets and anklets to the following address at one am. Only you and Jenny are to come. You will then take part in a short ceremony and you may all leave."
"All of us?" I asked. "What about his wanting Jenny for his High Priestess?"
"He says all of you."
I didn't believe her.
"I don't believe you."
"If you do not do this and you survive the night in the morning you will find the body of a dead baby girl, the next morning you will find a part of Linda. Don't let him do this to them." She pleaded the last part.
"Can you help us?" I asked, sensing she wasn't completely happy with that part of their plan.
"I can do nothing." She looked around. "Even now they will be watching me. Though, knowing the men they will be watching the girls in the toileten."
"I must go. Be at this address at one tomorrow morning."
"Are they both all right?"
"The baby is well. I take care of her."
"And Linda?"
"The men look after her."
I could imagine how, the Bastards.
"She will be returned to you. Just do as you are told."
"Why?"
"I can tell you this." Helga wrapped her scarf around her face as if about to leave. "The body he is trapped in decays with each passing day. Soon there will be little more than a skeleton. When that happens he will fade from existence. He is trapped within a narrow area, Alexandria to Luxor. If the artefacts he wants leave this country all hope for his freedom will go with it. He has days only, perhaps a few weeks."
She looked up and saw Jenny and Michelle approaching.
"I must go. Take care."
She reached out and touched my hand. She spoke an address and left.
I wished I had a pen to write it down.