Mother of Darkwaters: Book one of the Vessel series (40 page)

   Julianna places her mother's diary back upon the desk. She smiles.

   “Gariatu Estidium Merné,” Julianna speaks.

   “Someone's starting to sound like a pro around here,” Martha interrupts.

   Julianna jerks and spins around, “You trying to kill me? I thought you left?”

   Martha stands at the bottom of the staircase leading up to the library. Her long red hair drapes over her shoulders. Her right hand cradles her hip to support her sassy smile.

   “I'd ask you if you were having friends over this Saturday,” Martha teases, “But a hermit's house is too small for anyone else.”

   “I know, grams,” Julianna responds, “So you keep reminding me.”

   “And I'm going to keep saying it until I see you're making some friends,” Martha lovingly criticizes. She looks upward guiltily, “Or if I see you're getting some action.”

   “Grams!”, Julianna scolds lightly, “You're being so terrible today.”  

   Martha places her left hand on her hip, “Well, I'm pretty sure your generation would have referred to your old grams as a slut whenever I was your age.”

   Julianna's nose crinkles, “Please stop.”

   Martha's arms relax to each side as she chuckles.

   “You need to know that having control of the library doesn't include turning into some self-righteous nun.”

   “I know,” Julianna concedes, “I don't plan on it.”

   Martha turns to ascend the stairs once more, “Leave all of that ridiculousness for the bitchy penguins.”

   Julianna grins as she watches Martha making her way upstairs.

   “Promise to work on my social life,” Julianna declares, “But don't expect me to give you any pictures.”

   Martha stops her ascension while looking upward into the dim lighting within the first floor's auto-detect system.

   “Now that's just plain nasty, dear,” Martha begins her climb again.

   Julianna laughs, “Serves you right.”

   The woman with red hair grins while she clears the stairs, exits the two large double-doors, and enters into the hallway of candelabras.

   After Julianna takes her shower and eats, she finds her place back at her desk and opens up a personal dictionary she has been creating from the language of Lilith.

   “Shry-uh-vet,” Julianna pronounces the word
Shriavet
.

   “Welcome,” she confirms its meaning.

   “Ooh-tay,” she pronounces the word
Uté
.

   “To,” she speaks its meaning.

   Julianna puts the words together, “Shriavet uté.”

   She smiles confidently. She's beginning to speak Lilith's own native tongue.

   “Radio on,” Julianna commands to the library's new computer system.

  “Ra-di-o on,” the synthesized voice confirms.

   “Good girl,” Julianna teases.

   “Load Lilith mix,” she commands.

   “Loa-ding Li-lith mix.”

   Julianna grins as Tegan and Sara's song
Closer
begins its play throughout the library's speakers.

   “Julianna, is it?”, the woman behind the department store's counter recalls.

   “Yes. You remember me?”

   Devia smiles, “You're grams called and said you were coming.
And
it's impossible to forget that pretty hair of yours.”

   Julianna looks away, “I don't know about that.”

   “Sure it is,” the woman states as an indisputable fact, “It looks more beautiful than a lion's mane.”

   Julianna's green eyes dart back to the woman across the counter, “What'd you say?”

   The woman smiles, “You have a lot of fans.” She sees Julianna is about to begin a question bombardment against the compliment ramparts. Devia interjects before the words can leave the girl's lips.

   “I believe Martha said, 'Anything you need.' What can I do for you this morning?”

   “Um,” Julianna looks around nervously for other shoppers.

   “Janice,” Devia calls out loudly, “Could you watch the register? I have a consult.”

   A short petite blond with long hair walks over from the lingerie department. She walks behind the counter and smiles at Julianna.

   “Let's go somewhere a little more private,” Devia comforts Julianna's anxiety. The teen walks around the counter's left side and turns right where Devia holds back a curtain with a sign posted next to it. It reads:
Employees Only
. Julianna steps through.

   “Have a seat,” the woman's left hand waves towards a red plush lounge chair.

   Julianna sits and wipes her sweaty palms on the knees of her Gucci jeans.

   “There's no need to be nervous, Mother,” Devia speaks, “I am in service to you. There is nothing to be embarrassed over or ashamed of.”

   Julianna's heart races, “So you
do
know who I am.”

   “I do,” the woman reverently answers, “You are very precious to many, many people. I just happen to be one of them.”

   “I-I don't understand,” Julianna admits, “Why? You don't even know me.”

   “There's no rush for understanding,” Devia refuses to be baited into influencing the teen before her, “You have plenty of time to figure these things out on your own terms. But today, I believe you are birthday shopping if I'm not mistaken.”

   Julianna nods, although she isn't quite pleased with the woman's cryptic nature. But then again, she's getting more used to it. Her grams and the Lady Lanecia dances around these kinds of conversations all the time. She doesn't like it, but she appreciates the fact that no one tries to influence her into some strange world in which she may or may not be ready for.

   “Is there anything you need,” Devia returns to her sales representative’s tone.

   “Um,” Julianna stammers around her words, “Will grams see what I buy?”

   The woman with short blond hair remains professional as she addresses Julianna's fears.

   “No,” Devia confirms, “Martha was very specific about this actually. She wanted to make sure any shopping you do remains completely private. I'm the only one in the whole world who will know what you have purchased. Every item will bought through my name. Not you, and not your family.”

   “But what if she asks?”, Julianna counters.

   “You think she will?”

   “No,” Julianna answers, “Grams doesn't pry. Not that I know of.”

   “She swore me to secrecy. Even from her,” Devia settles the matter.

   Julianna nods. She sits in silence while trying to muster the courage to speak.

   “I can special order anything from anywhere,” Devia reads Julianna's facial expressions, “I'm not restricted to what this store carries. I'm very connected. If you can dream it up, I can get it. As long as we stay legal. I don't deal in illegal activities.”

   Julianna's eyes widen, “No. Nothing's illegal.”

   The woman laughs, “I didn't think so.”

   Devia pauses to re-evaluate her words. She locks her gaze upon the nervous Julia.

   “If it's a legal issue with age, don't sweat it. You're old enough. But no alcohol. I don't sell it.”

   “I don't drink,” Julianna confirms.

   “You'd be one of the few ladies,” Devia counters. She notices Julianna's guilty grin, but doesn't bust her out.

   Julianna looks nervously towards the curtain, “Do I have to shop?”

   Devia grins with amusement.

   “Hold on a second,” the woman speaks as she turns and walks over to a set of employee lockers lining the wall behind her. She opens one of the metal doors and pulls out a large briefcase. The woman walks over to the lunch table in front of Julianna and places the brown leather case upon its surface. She opens it and begins lying out a row of magazines for Julianna to see. When she finishes, she pushes the case across the table.

   “Take your time,” Devia walks around the table and finds her seat directly across from Julianna. She retrieves a yellow pad and a pen from her briefcase. Placing the pen on top of the pad, Devia pushes them across the table towards Julianna.

   “Write down the magazine name, page, item, and model number,” Devia instructs, “And if there's a size or color involved, I'll need that info, too.

   Julianna stares nervously at the magazines.

   “It'll be okay, Mother,” Devia comforts, “Anything you want. And I do mean anything.”

   The sales rep stands up and makes her way towards the curtain, “I'll be right out here if you need anything.”

   “Thanks,” Julianna's grateful tone seems to make the woman genuinely pleased. The way Devia looks at her is a little disconcerting. She has that star struck expression about her as if Julianna were actually Angelina Jolie or somebody else of great importance. But she's not. She's just Julianna. That's it. Why this woman continually adores her is beyond her. But to each their own. She won't judge. In fact, she sort of likes it.

   Julianna watches as the woman takes her leave from the room and closes the curtain. Her green eyes drift downward towards the row of magazines before her. She slides one closer and opens it up.

    “Now that's cute,” Julianna takes a closer examination of the picture showing a pair of jean short-shorts. The black denim has a playful red she-devil embroidered on the right buttock's cheek. She jots down a three by the size and fills in the rest of the info requested by Devia. Julianna turns the page, finds another must have piece of clothing and writes. By the time she finishes with the first magazine, Julianna enters mad shopper mode. Magazine after magazine she reads and then writes. Before long, Julianna's list has grown into three pages front and back.

   “How are we doing in here?”, Devia announces her entry into the employee's lunchroom. Julianna jerks as though she's been caught doing something really bad. Devia glances to the fantasy magazine beneath Julianna's hands.

   “There's a lot of weird stuff in here,” Julianna plays off her intrigue.

   “I agree,” Devia answers while making her way to the seat across from Julianna. She sits down while watching the girl close the magazine. Reaching across the table, Devia opens the magazine to a familiar page and points.

   “That's one of my favorites. It's rechargeable. Very necessary unless you like buying batteries all of the time.”

   Julianna nods while staring at the item as though she has seen this sort of stuff a million times.

   “It's nice,” Julianna's shaky voice betrays her.

   Devia notices the girl's forehead glistening with nervous sweat. She closes the magazine and reaches for the yellow tablet.

   “May I see?”

   “Sure,” Julianna lifts her left elbow from the tablet. She watches as Devia turns the notepad and slides it closer for a better view.

   “I think I went overboard,” Julianna confesses.

   “There's nothing wrong with humbleness,” the woman tactfully answers while glancing at Julianna. She smiles before looking back down to the paper.

   Devia checks to see if all of the required information has been listed. Whenever she reaches the final page, Julianna's heart rate quickly increases and her hands begin to sweat.

  
Oh gawd. She's going to think I'm some sick perv.

   Julianna watches for any expressions that will tell her what the woman thinks. But Devia's impartial look won't allow her to get a bead on her. When Devia looks up, she points to the magazine directly in front of Julianna.

   “Can I see that?”

   Julianna's sweaty hands leave water on top of the magazine as she pushes it towards Devia. The woman thumbs through it, stops, double-checks the page number with the writing on the pad, and then turns the page.

   “Ah yes,” Devia examines the item before glancing back to the notepad. She pushes the magazine across the table with her right index finger positioned by the item.

   “See here?”, Devia ignores Julianna's obvious nervousness.

   Julianna nods, but has no idea what the woman is asking her to look at.

   “There are gauges – thicknesses,” Devia explains, “Each one has its own unique job to perform. If you want, I can get you some info on them. Or you could just get them all so you have them. The choice is yours.”

   “Get them all,” Julianna refuses to have this conversation right now.

   “Very well,” Devia closes the magazine and makes the new adjustments to the yellow paper. When she finishes, the woman slides the notepad and pen towards her briefcase. Her light brown eyes glance up to Julianna.

   “Remember, Mother. There's no embarrassment or shame for being true to who you are. I wish I would have been as bold as you at your age. Maybe I could have avoided that identity crisis back in high school.”

   Julianna's relaxed smile inspires the sales rep.

   “Always listen to your heart,” Devia continues, “You can never go wrong doing that. It's the people who are always trying to perform their actions around what others believe that are constantly making messes of themselves.”

   “You sound like grams,” Julianna grins.

   “I'll take that as a compliment.”

   “It is.”

   “If you ask me,” Devia continues while gathering up the loose magazines on the table, “The problem with growing up as a girl is that we have this impossible social expectation placed on us. The world tells us that we should act a certain way, but are the first to post us up all over the place as symbols for some kind of sexual fantasy.”

   Devia finishes stacking the magazines on top of one another as her speech moves unhindered.

   “And when a woman decides to live the part the world has continually portrayed of her – now she's just a whore, slut, tramp, damaged goods, or whatever other garbage they can spit out of their filthy mouths. A double standard if I've ever seen one.”

   Devia slips the pen and notepad into her briefcase, “Embracing your sexuality is a good thing. Never be something that you're not. Don't live your life to please someone else. If they can't accept you for everything you are – and I mean every last part of you – then they're not worth one more second of your precious time. We only get one life.”