Chapter 18: Chapter 17

That felt very final, and the purple faded from her scales. They returned to their creamy white color, and we watched out the window for a while. I could barely see Phyllis in the distance. Her mech was surrounded by ceramic ball robots, but they seemed stumped on what to do with it. It was hard to make out, but they seemed unable to harm the armored suit, and simply clumped up around it, trying. It automatically swatted them away when necessary but ignored most attacks.

Molls shuddered and drew the blanket tighter around her shoulder again. I frowned at that and took a breath to speak. She looked at me in anticipation, and I suddenly forgot my question. Her eyes were so big, and the green in them sparkled at me. Molls smiled when I didn’t speak, and her scales began to flush pink again. “Yes?” She asked after a moment.

“Oh, sorry. I lost my train of thought, but I just had a question. You seem like you’re always cold. Why did you come here?” I shrank at the end of the question, realizing how it sounded only after it was verbalized. Funny how that works sometimes.

The pink in her scales suddenly deepened. “I was told this area was arid, and hot. This is my first new world, and I was excited. I suppose I chose my destination carelessly.” Molls whispered the last, but her scales became even darker pink when she said it, so I ignored it.

“Your first new world?” I cocked my head and narrowed my eyes as I asked the question, but she responded as if she had been expecting it.

“Yes, when BuyMort first brings a new world into the family, it can be a very difficult time. BuyMort priests are dispatched to aid new shoppers and establish safe areas for commerce and life.” Molls recited the words from memory, automatically, and I recognized them as doctrine. “It is an important pilgrimage for any priest of BuyMort.” 

“Is that your religion?” I asked. It again sounded bad somehow after I had spoken, but Molls seemed unaffected.

“Yes. As a priest of BuyMort, my passion is to aid in its inevitable spread, and help welcome new members to our ever-growing family.” She glanced over at me. “You seem to have some smart shopper in you, in spite of my earlier impressions.”

“No, you’re mostly right about me. I am a ruffian and a lout,” I said with a shrug. “Great word use by the way.”

She chuckled in the back of her throat. “Thank you. My education in the Church of BuyMort is responsible. Many morties were spent ensuring I could read and write. And more, to answer your questions about BuyMort.” Molls smiled down at me. “If you have any to ask of me, of course.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. How do I prevent my dream purchases?” I asked while at rapt attention, but Molls slowly shook her head and scowled.

“Why would you wish to do such a thing?” The snake-woman looked genuinely confused.

I blinked a few times and sighed. “I don’t have enough morties to survive, and I can’t afford to go spending them in my sleep.”

She frowned and nodded. “Ah, I understand. There are many ways to get in better touch with your subconscious and exert more control over your sleep spending. I can teach you meditative techniques that will help you sleep better and provide you a better relationship with your subconscious.” I saw her wave a hand beneath the blanket, which opened it slightly. She hurriedly closed the blanket again with a shudder. “This is a normal part of what any BuyMort priest does for their community.”

I leaned forward, eager. “Can you teach me anything now?”

Molls nodded. “Of course. To have a better relationship with your own mind, you must first build a relationship with your body.”

Sitting across from her on the plywood flooring in the stifling heat of the attic, I blinked in confusion. “What?”

Molls turned and fixed her large eyes on mine, and her scales flashed orange for an instant, before the color faded away. She took a long moment before answering me. “Mind and body are separate entities. I am not my body, and you are not yours. We, the entities that think and know of ourselves, while connected intrinsically to our bodies, are not our bodies.”

I nodded. “Okay, yeah. Following so far, mind and body are separate things.”

Molls nodded curtly. “Yes. Now, to better understand and navigate the relationship between the two, one must practice focusing the mind on the body. Your subconscious mind is your body, in the doctrines of BuyMort. It has equal rights to your BuyMort personal account.”

An image of her body immediately flashed to my mind and I blushed. She clearly noticed, because when she flicked her tongue out to smell the air the next time, her scales turned pink. Molls turned away, but merely faced the window and looked up to the sky. “I suggest focusing on something like the sky, or clouds, perhaps simply the desert in the distance. This will drive any distracting thoughts away and aid in gathering your focus.”

I did what she told me to and stared out over the desert. It did help me stop thinking about her body beneath the blanket and focus on the lesson she seemed to be teaching. I had always liked looking at the desert and used to hang out by the wrought iron fence at the south of the park and just zone out. Arizona was a pretty place if you let it be, BuyMort or not.

“Good. You look more relaxed already,” Molls crooned to my side. “Now I want you to focus on your breathing. Keep looking at the desert if you like or close your eyes. Whatever helps you focus on your breath.”

I started trying to do what she said and just focus on breathing, but I didn’t get it. When I turned with a shrug, I saw her scales flash a mixture of green and orange, but she just quashed down whatever that meant and refocused. “Here, look at me. Follow what I do.” She met my eyes with her own and began breathing.

In, one. Out, two. She took ten long deep slow breaths, counting each one on her fingers, and I followed along. As I did so, I noticed that I began becoming more aware of the sensation my breathing brought to me. What it truly felt like, something I never bothered to pay attention to anymore. I felt my diaphragm draw down, expanding my lungs and drawing in cool air past my tongue and throat. Then I felt it contract again, pushing warm air back over my cooled throat. I smiled and leaned into the sensation, exploring it further.

Once we finished, Molls nodded. “Good, you have started down the path. Now comes practice.” She had me do the breathing exercise again, and then when we had finished the second time, she upped the ante on me and made me do that kind of breathing for two minutes. I was stunned how fast the time went, even when not staring directly into her large, strange, beautiful eyes.

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As I performed the breathing exercises, I began to notice a change in my own perception. When I inhaled, I could feel my ribs expanding, and my diaphragm pulling down. I began to feel just how stiff my legs were becoming, and my growing hunger settled back in. The weight and cold press of my starfish suit was distracting, but I quickly began to learn to take it in stride and keep my focus on my breath. For nearly two hours, I received training in meditation from a snake-priest woman. It was one of the calmest periods of my entire life to date.

When the clock rolled past three pm, Molls gestured to the window with her chin. “The storm is passing.”

I scrambled to the window to look, and sure enough, the ceramic tentacle sparklers were no longer filling the road. They existed still, but were much fewer in number, and the thick fog was also less pervasive. I stood up to watch the campground and rub some feeling back into my legs and was pleased to see the situation at Phyllis’ Shasta was under control. The ceramic murder bots were all still bunched up, but as their line moved south, they broke away from her mech and followed. Where one moment, she had been surrounded by a swarm of the things, the next they all flooded away and began to spread out in the group ahead of them again. The dream storm had passed.

Molls made no move to leave, instead seeming to nestle into her new blanket further. She looked up at me from its folds and blinked a few times. “Any other questions for me?”

I shook my head for a few seconds before my eyes widened, and I nodded rapidly. “What do you eat? I need to bring you dinner in a few hours, and I honestly have no idea how to do that.”

She smiled. “I will be happy to use my church affiliate account tonight, it will allot me enough for a meal. You have done enough already.” After I breathed a sigh of relief, she pulled her lips back in amusement. “Was this a stressful task for you?”

“I’m honestly just glad to have a little more time to figure it out is all. I’m struggling to feed myself right now, learning how to please the advanced palate of a Nah’gh priest is a little intimidating. At least I have until breakfast now.” I waved my hand and frowned. “Is it priest, by the way? Shouldn’t it be priestess?”

Molls frowned back and flicked out her tongue as her scales flashed green. I was starting to suspect that meant impatience or perhaps a specific type of boredom. “Only remedial civilizations adhere something as insipid as sex to a job title. And I only eat once every few days.”

I sat back. “Oh. Okay. No, yeah, remedial. Sorry.”

The tall, beautiful snake woman in a lump of electric blanket reached out and placed her hand on my shoulder. When I looked up and met her eyes, she smiled at me again. It honestly kind of melted me when she did that, I liked it a lot better than getting yelled at. Then she cocked her head and asked, “why do you apologize so often?”

It wasn’t a question I had been expecting, and it had been a rough day. So instead of answering her, I just shrugged and shook my head. I looked away from her too, red shame on my cheeks. Dumbest part was, all I could think to say in that moment was “sorry,” which I very nearly mumbled, before catching myself and remaining silent.

“I am sorry, Tyson. I overstepped.” Molls squeezed my shoulder and then let go. “I am here if you wish to talk about anything, as your spiritual advisor.” She rose up from the blanket and held it out to me. “And I hope as your friend. Thank you for everything today.”

I looked back up and shook my head. “You should keep that. Mr. Sada doesn’t have any use for it, and the nights can get kinda cold.”

She rapidly nodded at that. “Yes, Phyllis was lovely enough to loan me a large blanket, or last night would have been excruciating.” Molls gripped the blanket and held it to her chest. “This is very warm, I appreciate it.” Her expression changed and she looked down. “Exchange without value, though. Won’t Mr. Sada be angry?”

I snorted. “I dunno what that first part means, but I don’t give a damn if he is. You gave me valuable information today, and he’s supposed to be caring for you in exchange for that information.” There I looked up at her. “Mr. Sada only cares about himself. I’ll try and watch out for you instead.”

Molls squinted at me and smelled the air with her tongue. Then she nodded. “Very well Tyson. I do not understand your strange relationship with him, but I will turn to you with my needs.” There Molls shuddered again. “I do not wish to interact with him anyway, beyond some choice words should he require them.” Then she turned and looked at me. “You, I am becoming accustomed to.”

I shot her a double thumbs up and smiled. “Awesome! I aim for tolerable.”

She laughed again, a gentle sound. I found myself wanting to hear it more often. Maybe, if I worked really hard, and was lucky, she would call me a smart shopper someday too. I shook my head clear and followed the beautiful snake woman downstairs.

We avoided moving toward Mr. Sada’s room, but he heard us and shouted down the hallway, “The storm is passed! News says it’s all clear, so you get that snake out of here, right?”

I rolled my eyes and turned. 

“Her name is Molls!” I shouted back, but Molls’ hand on my shoulder stopped me from saying anything further. She slid down the hallway silently and entered the room. Hobb stepped out after a few seconds and closed the door. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gray face even more pallid than usual. I could hear voices from behind the door, but not specific words.

But, based on Hobb’s changing expressions and occasional flinch, it seemed like he could. At the beginning, Mr. Sada’s voice was loud, but it quickly faded and became whiney. I could hear Molls’ voice too, but she simply spoke with quiet confidence.

Then the door opened again, Hobb stepped aside, and Molls exited. She had her head high, and she nodded at me as she passed. I fell into step behind her, impressed. My opinion of her rose dramatically that afternoon, and I felt good about my day at that point, in spite of all that had happened. Then, the instant I put my foot on the step to follow her downstairs and back to the campground, Mr. Sada ruined everything.

“Tyson, can you come in here please?” He put on his very best polite boss voice. The one he used mostly when doing those terrible staff meetings he liked to host. You know, those forty-minute plus wastes of time that should have been an email? Yeah, those. 

With a heavy sigh, and a slump in my shoulders, I turned back and glumly waved to Molls. She looked me in the eye, gave me a serious look, and then lifted her own chin with the back of her hand. I smiled at her out of the corner of my mouth and squared my shoulders, before marching down to my bosses room. Hobb closed the door behind me as I entered.

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