Part X - Soak-a-Bloke and then a Stroke
"Umm� hi, bathroom!"
Joxer stood, picking the last of the grape leaves out of his hair, waiting for some kind of reaction from the enormous, well lit chamber made of white and rose-colored marble. Ares had mentioned that he didn't like a big fuss in his fixtures, but since the fixtures looked like they were made of gold, what had he meant by that?
It was more of an arboretum than a bathroom, the ceiling made of colored glass panes that twinkled different rainbow hues with each pass of the sun's rays. The tall trees outside seemed to grow as decorations, making the windows look alive. And the inside� Joxer wasn't sure which god was in charge of interior decorating, but whoever it was had to be the most overlooked deity in the pantheon. He had to keep reminding himself that this lush, pretty room was actually a wing of the Hall of War.
Ares had given him basic instructions about the bathing chamber. Very basic. What he'd actually said was, "Just ask."
OK.
"Bathroom, I'd like to take a bath." Joxer waited.
And waited.
Nothing was happening. Maybe this wasn't going to work for him. Maybe it only listened to Ares. No, that can't be right. All of his kids have rooms here. I can't believe he would let any of them get away with not bathing.
"Bathroom, may I please have a bath?" Politeness didn't get any reaction either. Joxer had to think about this now. This was slowly becoming more work than boiling the water himself� Boiling? Aha!
"Hot water please." He didn't make it a question, assuming that Ares wouldn't stoop to beg for anything, least of all from his bathroom.
The sound of rushing water made Joxer sigh happily. He sat on one of the comfortable benches and started undressing, whipping the laces on his new boots open with one finger, as steamy water filled the bathing pool, a wide expanse of the room that did, in fact, resemble the one in Cupid's temple in construction. As if the God of Love had based his on this one. Joxer flexed his toes once they were free of the shoes and grinned as he heard them crack. It felt like he'd been on them for weeks, but not in that agonizing way they had hurt when he'd been on the road with� He drew a hard breath in and let it out, a little surprised at the angry clench in his chest. He hadn't thought he'd still be upset about it, but it was like a lead weight in his chest. BITCH! The word screamed through him like lightning. He wanted to punch something, throw something or break something. A twinkle caught his eye and he whirled around, only to find table with twenty or so bottles on it. Like the ceiling, a spectrum of colors shone there, each bottle holding a different colored liquid. Joxer left off stripping for the moment, examining this new addition.
Mmm. Cinnamon. He whiffed the mouth of the bottle with the reddish-brown liquid and immediately thought of the solstice cookies his grandmother used to bake. He could eat about fifty in one sitting and drink a gallon of milk, too. He smiled a little sadly. It had been a long time since he'd had that chance. Muti had died not too long before he'd left home and even though he was almost sixteen, he'd still wept like a broken-hearted little kid about it, very nearly hysterical with grief. She'd been his last hope, his port in the storm. And then, she was gone. Just like that. I just wish I could've said goodbye, Joxer sighed as he capped the bottle and set it back on the table.
After sampling a few more of the aromatic oils, his head was a little foggy. They all smelled so good, it would be impossible to pick from them. And now the scents were overlapping, mixing to make him a wee bit nauseous. He could have hopped into the bath without a selection, but he wanted to take advantage of the chance. Once Ares figured out that he'd messed with that map, he was sure he'd be dismissed. Or exiled. Or whatever.
