Sarah stretched awake.
“Good morning,” Orion smiled.
She sat up whimpering, rubbing her lower back. “Ow.”
“Too hard?”
“Yes.”
“They never bother me.”
She stood up doing some stretches to work out the knot in her back. “My bed at home is like a glove.” Neither of them mentioned the episode that happened the night before.
“The train is scheduled to stop in an hour.”
“I remember someone commenting on my perfume?”
“Really?” He raised his left eyebrow.
She removed her bag from the closet. “Yes,” she teased disappearing into the bathroom. “What is the name of this town we are stopping in?” Her voice called from the bathroom.
“Laza.”
She poked her head around the doorframe. “The Laza?” Her hair was pulled into a ponytail.
“You’ve heard of it?”
“Only a shoppers paradise.”
He laughed.
She stepped out of the bathroom wearing blue jeans, an aqua blouse and a yellow button down shirt. Orion gave a soft chuckle, “he can laugh,” she smiled.
“Why do you make fun of me so?”
“It is a proven fact that people who laugh have better health.”
He walked over to her taking her hair out of the ponytail allowing it to flow freely around her shoulders.
“If you were not the Crowned Prince, I would chop off your fingers.”
“What kind of doctor are you?” He asked.
“A neurosurgeon.”
“Wow, really?” He thought for a moment. “Do you play with peoples brains?”
“No,” she slipped on a pair of yellow sandals that matched her yellow button down shirt. “I specialize in the spine and peripheral nerves.”
“Why?” He looked confused.
“Why not?” She shrugged her shoulders.
“Okay.” He disappeared into the bathroom. When he reemerged everything he had on was beige, right down to his shoes.
She frowned.
He looked down at himself. “What?”
She raised her left eyebrow.
“I don’t like to shop.”
“What about your wife?”
“What about her?”
“I guess I am just shocked. All the married couples that I know, the wife does most of the shopping and picks out her husband’s clothing.”
“Weren’t you listening when I said that we really don’t have a relationship?”
“I was. But even in the most dysfunctional relationships, wives will still buy for their husbands as to not be embarrassed when they are seen together.”
“Are you saying that I’m an embarrassment to be seen with?”
“Not at all.”
The train came to a gentle stop. He escorted her off the train through the busy streets of Laza. It was breathtaking. He guided her into a perfume shop.
A little bald man waddled from the back of the store. “May I help you?” He mumbled.
“I want the worst smelling ladies perfume you have.”
Sarah’s jaw dropped, “the worst?”
The clerk looked confused. “K.” He produced a small purple bottle from under the counter.
Orion took a deep breath inhaling its contents. He muffled a gag. Sarah wasn’t paying attention to them. She was smelling of other perfumes. He sprayed the vile odor on the back of her neck.
It took her a minute for the putrid odor to make it to her nose. She gagged, “oh my God.” Groaning, she covering her nose. Before long a cough set in. “Why?” Frantically, she tired brushing the scent away from her nose. Her skin tingled as he drew a long deep breath off of her neck.
It was the same smell that drove him wild on the train, “smell of this.” He motioned to the clerk.
Sarah’s eyes got as big as quarters. She finally leaned over allowing the clerk to smell of her neck. They watched him, as he smelt of the bottle again. He flinched. “I would not have believed it if I had not saw,” he cleared his throat, “smelled it with my own nose.”
“I still have that horrible scent trapped in my nose.” She hissed.
“Do you have anything else?” Orion was desperate to find something anything that wouldn’t drive him insane around her. They still had several days left of this trip.
“That was the vilest thing I have.” He stammered, “had.”
“It is hopeless.” Orion admitted defeat.
They went back into the streets. A street vender was selling a miracle hand softener. “I have to see this.” They wondered over to his cart.
“Try it.” The vender smiled.
“Why would you want to?” Orion frowned.
“I have tried 90% of every product on the market for my hands and nothing works.” She dipped her hands into his sample. It was very oily. “This reminds me of cooking oil.”
The vender rubbed his hands together. She took note of how smooth they looked. So she followed his example. “It feels like cooking oil.”
“It will not rub off.” He laid out a white piece of paper. “Try.”
She looked at Orion grinning, holding up her hands.
“No.” He took a step backwards.
She pouted, batting her eyes. “Oh please. It would give me great pleasure to buy you a new outfit.”
He smiled. She wiggled her fingers at him. “Okay.” He gave in.
She giggled, putting her hands just below his shoulders. “No hand prints.” She pouted, “so much for a new shirt.” Then she smiled.
He looked down at his shirt to see that she was telling the truth. There wasn’t even an oily stain.
“I’ll take some.”
“For you, a pair of moisturizing gloves use them at night.”
Poetry & More 