“Island?” he mumbled. “We are indeed far from Thebes.”
“Yes, we are,” I said in an exaggerated voice as if I were talking to a child. Gently, I patted his arm as if he were an invalid. “So let’s get you a hot dog, put my phone back together, and call social services to come pick you up.” I hadn’t decided on a course of action until that moment, but it felt like the right one. I was suddenly exhausted. This guy was in need of more help than I could give him, and I wanted to remedy the situation as soon as possible.
“Why is there a service to lift people? I can walk. Ah…you mean a litter. Yes, that is appropriate.”
“Indeed it is.” I smiled at him, utterly confused by our conversation.
“Whaddya want?” the hot dog vendor barked after giving Amon the once-over.
“Two dogs with the works and a soda,” I replied.
Amon, if that was his real name, stood right behind me as if guarding my back from the people passing. He watched with curiosity as the vendor got my order together. When the vendor was finished I handed Amon the food before fishing out a ten-dollar bill from my wallet. After stuffing the change into the guy’s tip jar, I walked Amon to an empty bench and put my bag between us as he began fiddling with the hot dog wrapper.
Amon took a bite and seemed to like what he tasted, but when I unscrewed the top of the soda bottle things really got interesting. He chugged a mouthful of soda and a second later he was choking on CO2, soda spraying everywhere as his eyes watered.
I grabbed some napkins from the vendor and began cleaning the soda from Amon’s chest and arms.
He was looking at me with a half-frustrated, half-amused expression. “I can take care of it, Young Lily.”
Cupping my hand, he wriggled the wad of napkins from between my fingers while I blushed violently and apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”
He took both the sticky soda and my fumbling words in stride. Still, I forced myself to look away as he finished cleaning up because I was enjoying the process just a little too much. Being physically attracted to Mr. Almost-King/Non-Pharaoh just wasn’t acceptable, and I refused to allow even a glimmer of interest to take root.
When he was done cleaning his chest, Amon thrust the soda bottle into my hands. “This drink is vile. Is there no juice of the grape, or perhaps water?”
“Hold on.” I left and returned a moment later with some bottled water. “Here. Now, why don’t you tell me how you came to be in New York and yet have never heard of the place?” Instead of answering me, he drained his beverage.
Raising the empty bottle, he exclaimed, “This water is more delicious than the soft kisses from the daubed lips of a dozen nubile maidens.”
Suddenly, I couldn’t remember what I’d just asked him. Seeing that my only response was to stare at him like I’d forgotten how to think, which, incidentally, wasn’t too far from the truth, he waved a hand to get my attention. “May I have more, Lily? My throat is as dry as a sandstorm in the desert.”
What a coincidence. My throat had suddenly gone dry, too. “Uh…sure.”
Leaving my bag on the bench beside him, I pulled out some cash and headed back to the vendor. When I turned around, my hands full of bottles, I saw a man in a hoodie grab my backpack and begin to run. Seriously? Is this the day I’m having? Surely I’m being punked!
“Hey!” I shouted, and immediately dropped the bottles, two of which split, spraying their contents on my legs. Without a second thought, I ran after the thief.
“Stop him!” I called out, and was pleased to see several pedestrians make an effort to slow the thief down. Before I reached him, the man abruptly halted in his tracks, as if he had no control over his body. He turned around to face me as a voice behind me said, “You will return her belongings.”