The Lies That Bind

Chapter 25: The Lies that Bind Us

Saturday hits us quickly and, with all that's happened, I'm not ready for it. After being followed downtown, I immediately informed the police. Turns out the description of "a group of men in all black" isn't much to go by. I didn't tell Kazmir. I have the strange suspicion he already knows, and it frightens me.

The sense of dread is high by the time Kazmir arrives to pick me up. The sun is high in the sky, baking the city, with the skyline clear as glass. I decide to wear something bright and cheery, something that will lighten the tension. I go with a pale blue maxi wrap studded with a coral floral print, cold shoulder sleeves supported by thin spaghetti straps. The wrap-like design allows for a little bit of leg to be shown along with my pink sandals. It's something different, fresh and new that will hopefully lessen the ominous feeling I can't shake.

Kazmir is dressed as casually as I am -- a polo and slacks. I gather we share the same mindset of changing later on the ship. He cracks a small, timid smile, once his eyes rest upon me, as I descend the steps from my front door towards the street.

"You look beautiful, Devushka." he murmurs.

The pet name is like a breath of fresh air to me. I haven't heard it in so long it sounded foreign. "Thank you," I smile back at him.

He opens the front passenger door of the M1, "As Americans say: Your chariot awaits."

I roll my eyes. Quirky Kazmir is back, and how I've missed him dearly. To show my gratitude, I rise up onto the balls of my feet until our lips meet. It's a refreshing feeling as the anxiety seems to melt away, leaving us for the duration.

The Califia is a mighty ocean liner, painted jet black with a white top and one big orange smokestack. On her stern reads "C A L I F I A - Long Beach", and the entire liner's decked from the top of her masts to the railing in lights of all kinds. Opulently-dressed people are already boarding, mingling on the top deck. I suddenly feel underdressed, but that'll change come evening. Inside, everything aboard the Califia is curved wood and marble, geometrically sculpted from floor to roof as fancy Tiffany chandeliers hang from the carved wooden ceiling.

As we make our way to our stateroom, the hallways seem smaller than expected and strangely uphill as well. Nevertheless, we find our room near the middle left side of the ship, "port side" as the concierge called it, and look inside. There's only one bed in the modest room, with a small bathroom also included. A lonely porthole sits across from the door, providing a look at the docks outside, as the white-tan walls glow softly with the lamplight by the bed's left.

I notice a bottle of champagne on the small table in the next room over, sitting in a small metal bucket filled with ice. Kazmir must have seen it too as he makes a beeline for it, leaving his suitcase beside me in the doorway. Without an inch of guilt, he pops open the bottle and chugs.

I secure our stateroom door before speaking. "Kaz, are you OK- -"

"Drink?" He turns, offering me the bottle.

"No glasses?" I ask as I walk over to him, taking note of the two wine glasses sitting upside down neatly on the table.

"No need," he shakes the bottle gently; it seems half empty already.

I eye him with mild disapproval, but follow his lead. "We shouldn't drink too much before dinner."

He lets out a hearty laugh as if I had said something crazy. "I will need all the liquid courage I can get before then, Devushka."

Once I've had my fill, Kazmir recovers the bottle to finish it off.

Around 7:30, the Califia disembarks, cruising gently through the bay. I peek out the small porthole window to see the city twinkling in the distance. It feels like we're sailing away from all of our problems; away from stalkers, weirdoes, and secrets. With a small sigh, I tear myself away from the window and back into the bathroom to finish getting ready.