I can’t see my feet in this smoky haze,” Zingara thought looking down at her white shoes. She was in a military dress white uniform with dark jacket. Even though she was young, many dangling medals and decorations added a flash of color.
Zingara stepped forward on familiar yet strange soil. She knew this was a dream country, but restricted somehow.
The horizon faded to oblivion; milky haze against pale sky touching white ground. She squinted to focus for any shape in the bright illusion.
“For being The Dark Dream place, it certainly is bleached,” she muttered.
A few steps more revealed a worn pebble path. The crunching of small white stones was loud crashing boulders to her anxiety-sensitive ears. A dozen careful paces more and the fog cleared a little.
“This location joins many paths, . . . a nexus,” she mentally noted, “why do I fear this foreseeable crossroads?”
The air seemed mild, sweet, and alien. The illumination was bright but not harsh. Except for lack of coloration and sound, it wasn’t unpleasant. The spot was private, sheltered by surrounding low mounds. A central low stone bench appeared the designated place to sit and wait. Zingara made another mental note: pinkish tint; a certain oddity. The bench probably was looted from the Castle Palace of Shiloh. Perhaps for a guest?
“That’d be me, a guest. I haven’t a clue where I am or why I’m here,” she whispered out loud.
“Ah, but you do. The note,” said a male voice nearby.
She whirled.
Gloriously perched nearby relaxed a lean charmer. A slight breeze twirled the ends of his enchanted hair around sensuous skin. His dark locks danced to a floating hissing wind aria. He wrote in white sand with his toe. Zingara quickly leaned forward reading his sand message. It read: YEW RUE.
“You’re name I assume is Yew Rue?” said Zingara, “And you already know, I’m Zingara. You sent the note?”
He flopped back on his propped elbows and smiled with closed eyes.
“I take that as an obvious yes,” she said, making fast mental notes on the man’s unusual body language. He deliberately contrived to arouse her.
“A trap?” she wondered.
“Zingara is your name, meaning gypsy girl,” he said rolling over and on bare hands and knees crawling slowly toward Zingara. His dark eyes kept constant contact on hers.
“He’s studying me for weakness to his seductions,” thought Zingara. The pang of physical yearning for his affection taunted her.
“You writhe like a venomous snake, dream man. Why? Do you intend to devour me?”
He frowned.
“I’m hurt. I only desire sharing pleasures with you,” he pouted.
Curling at her feet the sand man of pleasure stared up in feigned submission begging merciful release.
“Dear Yew Rue, you’re as tempting as any man I’ve met, but it’s not enough. I know you intend ensnaring and enslaving me with your charms. I’ll suffer not knowing your nightly delights but I must abstain. Your price is too high,” said Zingara.
“I have no price. I am priceless, a gem and you toss my sensuous offering aside as if debris. I am forever offended,” he replied.
He slowly unfolded to his full-length, “But I can change and be tranquil, too, if you like. I can mellow.”
Zingara sat a moment contemplating Yew Rue’s youthful skin and hair and his obvious military training.
“Yew Rue,” she murmured, “I’ll miss your warm touch always. But I must move on soon. I must say Good-bye.”
Yew Rue tested again.
“I’m tired,” he said putting his arm on her shoulder and resting his head against it, “but I’ve enough energy for you if you like.”
Zingara eyed him suspiciously. He vaguely reminded her of a smooth predator.
The man laughed.
“Am I not different now?”
“Yes. I think I like you. When you aren’t as powerful, I feel more secure.”
“Ah, my power dwindles but my passion is still strong. Spend time with me and I’ll share passion with you. Are you interested?” he offered with little hint of fear.
“Let’s spend time together and then we’ll decide,” said Zingara.
“A good answer. I like you. Time is what reveals the heart,” he replied grinning.
Zingara froze as if hearing a familiar voice. “Time is what reveals the heart” a quotation the Wise Old Man always said. Zingara made the connection at last. Her teacher taught this man also.
“I’d feel more comfortable if you weren’t so exposed.”
“I feel fine. You feel I’m vulnerable, eh? But if it helps, you take off your jacket. Then we’ll both be more vulnerable.”
Zingara noticed her skin as she removed her jacket. It seemed older, battle-scarred and spotted. She forgot how much time had passed. She was young but had fought many battles already. Yew Rue seemed entirely younger and uninhibited.
“Yew Rue, why do you try to seduce me?”
“My friends call me Yew. I suppose I thought if I could control you, I was powerful and potent. I’ve discovered otherwise.”
“What do you mean- otherwise?”
“The Wise Old Man, he says, “The wise person realizes power is in giving, not in taking. Capture something and it’ll fight always to be free. Give freedom and it’ll probably choose to stay.”
“True. I sense a trap in your desperation.”
“When a man depends on virility, he is most desperate of all. His potency will betray him and disappear. Loneliness will be his only companion,” Yew Rue replied.
“Look!” Zingara said pointing to the white sand at their feet. Leaning over she pulled a flat, small boomerang curved object from the powdery grit.
“A Best Stone!” she exclaimed, examining the handsome dark purple garnet and gray granite stone. Two veins of brilliant gold united in the smooth polished purplish rock. The best Stone was an important power symbol. Very costly and rare.
Dusting the powdery sand off, Zin offered the precious gem to Yew Rue.
He clenched a fist around the hard solitary piece in his palm.
He said very softly, “A good sign. Thank you, Zin. The sign of a new start in a contest of joining. Blessed union.”
“BENXUS,” she spoke.
Silent and unchanging, he turned, searching the mystery of her pondering eyes.
“How is it you know a military code word- BENXUS?” he asked warily, “BENXUS is war language for mission completion or joining of forces.” He already knew how she knew. What interested him more was why she wanted to know it and use it.
“Yes. Of course, I know. You talk in your sleep,” she giggled. She’d dodge, rather than disclose who taught her any military lingo, for her teacher was the Military Leader of the SCARAB Armed Society and also, The Wise Old Man, her father.
“Absurd. We’ve never slept together,” he retorted.
“When you’re asleep, I’m always there,” she replied.
He sensed this probably was cosmic truth.
“You know, you should talk to my father. He usually knows the answer to questions about the future and such.”
“I believe I’ve met him before,” he said lying in a calculated way.
“I would imagine so. He certainly knows of you,” she pretended.
“You’re a great help. What do I do now to win your affections?”
“You must hold me close and kiss me without arousing my fears or your own physical desires,” said Zin.
“And what’s that supposed to prove? Sounds primitive.”
Zingara smiled at Yew Rue’s scowling displeasure.
“It tests your balance of spirit and nature,” said Zingara.
“And what if I fail this test?”
“It’s not a “Yes or No, Black or White” test but rather reveals your degree of preparation and discipline. Mind control yields mastery over addictive longings and distractions.”
“Are you saying my longing for closeness to a woman, you in particular, is addictive and distracting?”
“The answer to that is obvious. What good is a Purpose if you can’t focus your energies and are fatigued constantly?”
“You’re right. It’s undeniable I crave you. It is as if you are connected to me, a BENXUS of my best qualities. I think I’m afraid of losing this test of balance.”
“You’ve nothing to lose except the pleasure of the test,” said Zingara.
“Are you enticing me now?” Yew Rue asked.
“No and yes. I just think we’ll both enjoy moments of closeness.”
Yew Rue held Zingara close. The sensation of her skin against his caused him to frantically search for will power. He pulled Zingara closer. She felt no inhibitions now. She looked up warmly into his eyes and then closed her eyes waiting. In those moments of togetherness Yew Rue thought, “Being intimate with this darling is more pleasant than I’d anticipated. Curse her! Will she join me in my secret plans?”
He bent forward and kissed her. Affection filled his heart. Thumping drums pounded in his ears. Yet, he almost instantly became afraid of losing her. Fighting the feelings, he focused on his desire to have her. Then her robust passion seized him. He struggled not to seek coupling with her. It seemed an endless kiss, but in reality it was only moments.
“You want me don’t you?” gasped Zingara.
He turned away and nodded his head.
“Then take me. I submit myself to you.”
“No,” he said, “Such affections will destroy my plans. To taste your sweetness is the most potent intoxication. My mind will never be content if we braid our bodies together. All my future plans are at risk.”
She pouted. A suspicious deception was imagined in her pretty but smart head, the purple and gray Best Stone was planted conveniently on this arranged spot by Yew to soften her delicate sentiments. Could this be possible? A clever cosmic forgery to shape destiny’s smile when in Yew’s arms? He needed her for something, a crucial and personal plot perhaps. She smelled a promised betrayal. A grudge or lust or greed was driving this young man mad.
“Then you no longer find me attractive?” she asked, pretending no difference in affection.
“If only you could discern the fascination I have for you.”
“I believe you but I need reassurances. How can I know your desire is genuine?”
“Will you swear to keep a secret from all others?” he imposed.
She looked down, she suspected this moment was coming.
“Is it military in nature? If so, regretfully, I already am committed,” she stated, pointing to the medallions on her dark jacket.
“Very well. If you won’t share my military secret, I really can’t promise to keep back our secret tryst in the desert tonight from your father’s all hearing ears,” said Yew Rue slyly.
“But we didn’t do anything but kiss,” she replied.
“Would he believe that is all that transpired between us?”
“Are you blackmailing me to obtain my favors?”
“Yes. Most men would use extortion to obtain you. You’re very beautiful. I want you for my wife and Queen,” he said the revealing word as if offering royal offices were a hobby.
“Queen?!”
“The Wise Old Man would say, “The future branches out into many possibilities. Many are good. Some are bad.”
“Yew, I can’t. You know that. I can’t go along with any mutiny deposing my Father.”
“Choose the life path of least resistance. Otherwise you will burn out before your purpose is realized. Focus. Simplify. As you eliminate the dead wood, out of the ashes of the past will rise new life, like the Phoenix. A good symbol of your purpose. All these are The Wise Old Man very words.”
“Thank you, Yew, you flatter me and my father.”
Yew Rue placed the magic gray and purple Best Stone back in Zingara’s hand.
“A part of me belongs to you now, Zingara. When you crave me, I’ll nurture you. I will sustain your painful love addiction.”
And you will join me, he thought, I need you to help mastermind this overthrow.
Sand memories washed through Zingara’s uneasy night dream. She felt Yew Rue’s hard Best Stone in her hand. She was mistaken. It was a dream. Or resembled a dream. Maybe she was drugged. Would she ever be sure of the truth? Daily she waited silently watching for hidden indicators of where she and her boy-hero stood.