Venus For A Day

Chapter 7

Walking the dock back to my boat, I pray Steve does not cross our paths. But this time, it is not because of the risk that he will prefer Venus. Nor is it because my eyes are undoubtedly still red and puffy from my outburst. It is because I know I am not ready for him. I don't know what to say, what to do, how to be.

I look down the dock towards The Whale but see no signs of life save a strange, gothic-dressed young woman who sits at the end of the dock every so often, dangling her feet over the water. She's always dressed in black, which matches her dyed-black hair. Nobody seems to know her, but she doesn't do much more than hang around looking depressed.

Beyond her, I see that Steve's dog, Ruffy, who shakes like the dickens from some strange condition I have not had the chance to ask about, is not out. That usually means they are gone for the day. Good. I need time.

Stepping on the boat with a bag of groceries in each hand, I head straight for the galley, with Venus strangely close on my heels. Maybe it is my imagination, but I get the sense something extraordinary is about to happen. As soon as both feet hit the galley floor, my feeling is confirmed. The climate changes. It is suddenly hot, much hotter than usual. It often gets very warm mid-morning on these summer days, but this feels different—as if the heat is coming from something other than the air temperature.

A thick, animal-like musk begins to permeate the salon, as if being piped in, flooding the place. There is a powerful energy to match it. Something like an indoor lion's cage at the zoo.

It's getting difficult to breathe.

I want to ask Venus about it, but her back is turned, and something suggests caution. It is something about her, I realize, even without seeing her face, that makes me stop. Unless I am very wrong, this lion's den effect is emanating from her.

As my awareness grows, my senses seem to become more acute. It makes me realize that being with Venus in this space could be very dangerous.

Yes, there is no doubt about it now. The Venus who wept for Maja is gone. Not only that, but I get the feeling the Venus who tried to kill Psyche may well be nearby. I have no reason to believe this, no fact I can point to. Even so, I'd place a hefty bet on it.

Her back still turned to me, the room grows thick with challenge, like a boardroom where everyone knows they are about to endure a long, drawn-out and very hostile meeting. I am palpably aware that I must do absolutely everything exactly right. Even if I don't know what or how.

Is this what she came for? Have I been led on, for this moment, below deck, where no one can see what happens?

Or am I only paranoid? I remember the darkness beneath her smile. It wasn't my imagination. I'm sure of that now.

Seconds tick by slowly as I try to figure it out, or at least get a grip. Why is all of this so insanely hard to grasp? And if all is well, and she can read my mind, why is she not responding to my growing concern? Why doesn't she reassure me? Doesn't she care that she is frightening

me?

My nose revolts at the sweaty animal scent permeating the space between us. I feel the regal majesty in her great mane of hair, which seems suddenly wild and unruly. As she turns to me, she bites into a fleshy peach, her eyes flashing. I can well imagine myself being devoured.

Which is probably just what she wants. Jesus, the thick stench!

Though the hatch is unlocked above us and it appears there is an escape route, I have zero confidence I could outrun her should she care to pounce. My knees grow weak at the idea.