The Traveler

Hollis looked amused. “You know, I’ve been in that town in Arkansas where they lynched Isaac Jones. Thirty years ago, the NAACP and some Jewish group got together and put up a plaque in honor of Zachary Goldman. They make it like a peace-and-love brotherhood thing because this Harlequin killed two racist bastards with a crowbar.”

“Was there ever a Harlequin gathering?” Gabriel asked. “Did the different groups ever meet in one room?”

“That would never happen. Harlequins respect the randomness of battle. We don’t like rules. Harlequin families are connected to each other by marriage, tradition, and friendship. Some families have been allies for hundreds of years. We don’t have elected leaders or a constitution. There’s just a Harlequin way of looking at the world. Some Harlequins fight because it’s our destiny. Some of us fight to defend freedom. I’m not talking about the opportunity to buy fourteen different kinds of toothpaste or the insanity that drives a terrorist to blow up a bus. True freedom is tolerant. It gives people the right to live and think in new ways.”

“I still want to know about ‘Damned by the flesh, saved by the blood,’” Hollis said. “Whose blood are you talking about? The Tabula, the Harlequins, or the Travelers?”

“Take your pick,” Maya said. “Maybe it’s everyone.”

***

THERE WAS ONLY one bedroom in the house. Hollis proposed that the two women share the bed while he and Gabriel sleep in the living room. Vicki could tell that Maya didn’t like the idea. Now that she had found Gabriel, she seemed uncomfortable when he wasn’t in her sight.

“It’ll be okay,” Vicki whispered. “Gabriel is only a few feet away. We can leave the door open if you want. Besides, Hollis has the rifle.”

“Hollis is a mercenary. I don’t know how much he’s willing to sacrifice.”

Maya walked several times from the living room to the bedroom as if she was memorizing the position of the doorways and walls. Then she went into the bedroom and slid the blades of her two knives between the box spring and the mattress. Both handles were sticking out. If she dropped her hand down, she could instantly pull a knife from its sheath. Finally she got into bed, and Vicki lay on the other side of the mattress.

“Good night,” Vicki said, but Maya didn’t answer her.

Vicki had slept with her older sister and various cousins during vacations and was used to their restless movements. Maya was different in every way. The Harlequin lay flat on her back with her hands clenched into fists. It looked as if an immense weight was pushing down on her body.

26

When Maya woke up the next morning she saw a black cat with a white throat sitting on the dresser. “What do you want?” she whispered, but didn’t get an answer. The cat jumped down onto the floor, glided through the doorway, and left her alone.

She heard voices and peered out the bedroom window. Hollis and Gabriel were standing in the driveway, inspecting the damaged motorcycle. Buying a new tire meant a monetary transaction and contact with a business that was connected to the Vast Machine. The Tabula would know all about the damaged bike and activate their computer search programs to monitor motorcycle tire sales in the Los Angeles area.

Considering her next move, she went into the bathroom and took a quick shower. The finger shields that had gotten her through United States immigration were starting to peel off her index fingers like dead skin. She got dressed, strapped both knives onto her arms, and checked her other weapons. The black cat reappeared when she left the bathroom and led her into the hallway. Vicki was washing dishes in the sink.

“I see you met Garvey.”

“Is that his name?”

“Yes. He doesn’t like to be touched, and he doesn’t purr. I don’t think that’s normal.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Maya said. “I never had a pet.”

There was a coffeemaker on the counter. Maya poured coffee into a bright yellow mug and mixed in some cream.

“I just made some corn bread. Are you hungry?”

“Definitely.”

Vicki cut a thick slice of corn bread and placed it in a bowl. The two young women sat together at the table. Maya smeared some butter on the corn bread, and then added a spoonful of blackberry jam. The first bite was delicious and she felt a moment of unexpected pleasure. Everything in the kitchen was clean and organized. Patches of sunlight glowed on the green linoleum floor. Although Hollis had broken away from the church, a framed photograph of Isaac T. Jones hung on the wall beside the refrigerator.

“Hollis is going to buy some motorcycle parts,” Vicki said. “But he wants Gabriel to keep out of sight and stay here.”

Maya nodded as she swallowed her corn bread. “That’s a good plan.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’m not quite sure. I need to contact my friend in Europe.”

Vicki picked up the dirty dishes and took them over to the sink. “Do you think the Tabula know that Hollis was driving yesterday?”

“Maybe. It depends what those three riders saw as we passed them.”

“And what will happen if they learn about Hollis?”