A part of me wanted to put my worldly possessions in a handkerchief and tie them to a stick helping me to run away from home. When she got these ideas, then….
“I’ve always wanted to…..” – Famous last words for her. The dog and I just waited. He wanted to know what his name would be this time, while I…while I wondered if a large stone had hit me on Mars, causing my latest bout with Martian Amnesia?
I suggested a quieter trip. Perhaps to visit her mother, or a nearby shopping center in the next town. She rushed into the kitchen and fetched a large cold compress, trying to avert the amnesia from making me the ideal husband, just on the boring, predictable side.
She started finding the necessary equipment, without telling me or the dog, where we were going. He leaned back to scratch a flea or two, while I tried my hand at tying bamboo fishing flies, in case we would be visiting the Yangtze River, or something like that where nobody knew my name, or my dogs for that matter.
“Today”, she said. “We are traveling to…..”
It didn’t really matter to me. I tried to get the truth out of her by suggesting Egypt.
“Oh. I never knew you to be a Pyramid Worshiper?” which made me wish I hadn’t left the back door open with the encroaching windstorm, allowing the searing heat to hasten a new coat of paint on the outside door.
“Erastosthenes” I said without blinking, but couldn’t figure out if the dog should bear that name, or….
“Should I whisper that name to you when the sun has set our Egyptian Blood to boil?”
“No. Not necessarily” I said, but it did seem to make her breathing increase and make me think of sailing down the Nile, while waiting for Cleopatra to command me to, to….
“Hau-Hau” barked Erastosthenes and ran in circles excitedly. “Hau-Hau” he continued but I couldn’t get used to him barking in Arabic, while my thoughts ran along the Nile, hopping on the first fishing boat heading towards the Delta.
“Would you fan me a bit?” she asked me, while I held my hand up to block the searing heat of the sun.
I looked out of the window, noticing how the summer rains had all but washed out my warmer thoughts of Egypt, but then. When in Rome…
“Of course, my Queen” I said, taking a hurried sip of my Egyptian Mead, looking at the rolling dunes of her supple expanses, watching the last Camel Train disappear over the horizon.
“Anything for the Queen” I repeated while Erastothenes, looked up at the Moon, and wondered……