“If You Really Are Married”
where is your finger?- questioning under sodium amytal
- Now dance for me
- it was a satisfying moment
- flung themselves savagely upon it
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“If you really are married,” the old woman asked, “then where is your finger? Show me the ring.”
I didn’t wear a ring, but just when it looked like I’d have to endure questioning under sodium amytal to explain why not, Tessa spoke up.
“The fertility rite has been completed satisfactorily.” She glanced at me. “Numerous times.” She rounded on Jason. “And we have more important matters to deal with, such as open war between the mimes and the fire eaters, right here on this island. So,” she concluded in a booming voice, turning back to the old woman, “show me your ring! Prove that you are the Mizzenpreistess.” The crone held forth her right hand for inspection, and Tessa nodded at the brass-and-torquoise scorpion clinging to her middle finger. “Very good. Now dance for me!”
It could just be that I so seldom get to see nude female clowns ordering anybody around, but it was a satisfying moment indeed when the Mizzenpreistess did the funky chicken at Tessa’s command.
The sound of dozens of people crashing through the jungle set my heart racing, but neither Tessa nor Jason seemed alarmed by the onrushing fire eaters. She put a hand on my arm to steady me as they erupted into the village. They converged on the hammock where the old woman had been sitting, and flung themselves savagely upon it. The first few flipped it right over, but they soon got the hang of it.
bonus points for using them in order