Effie's home

Kane packed all his things in the engineer’s car and drove it to the middle of the swamp and killed the engine. He saw the hovercraft settle down. Kane was starving! The rain had lost its ferocity and he too was done cleaning up. He drew his overcoat tighter, turned up the collars and shoved his hands deep inside the black trouser’s pocket. He had a long walk ahead, back to his hovercraft at the abandoned cabin, a couple of miles at the least. Diamonds crunched under his feet and hissed as they dissolved into the air in a curl of smoke. He felt better now and somewhat exhausted. The avenger in him took the back seat and the slave trader Kane, the Kane with one billion net worth came back again. He walked slowly, head pushed down, thinking what he must do next. He did not want to face Sati. She would jump on any excuse to fight with him. ‘You should spend more time with me together..’ Or ‘You are never there for me…’ and the worst of all, ‘I don’t think It’s working anymore’ .

He was a creature of tranquility and his wife was no less than a banshee. He shivered thinking of going back to her. No! She would have to wait. When was the last time they had grubbly root drink together?

The curly blond face of Effie with her thin lips floated in his eyes. Yes! He could go check on her! Find out more about the slaves that attacked her! He smiled and quickened his pace. His slave database had all the records of shipment and her address was a piece of cake after he had searched her servant’s name. Although he had followed her around a couple of times last week, he had failed to announce his presence.

It took him fifteen minutes to reach the old fashioned complex she lived. Her grandmother’s place. It was a huge estate but had been sold out piece by piece. And now all that the family owned was just a three thousand square feet of space inside a closed complex.

Kane knocked. Effie answered the door, “Hello Mr. Morgan” she said in an ecstatic voice.

“Hello Effie” Kane said, “Just checking in. Hope the slave is troubling you anymore”

“Checking me out huh?” She said biting her lip. She wore a candy white skirt and a black crop top. Her blond hair were askew and she was bare feet.

Kane felt his ears turn red. “I was just…”

“Come-on in. Let’s have a drink” She said grabbing his arms and tugging him inside. She banged the door shut and went into the kitchen. Kane slumped on the living room couch. The ariel was turned on and a woman in purple headdress and black robes was twerking to a fast conga beat. Che walked in a second later with two steaming mugs that had an aroma of what Kane’s grandfather called cinnamon.

“Thanks for taking my advice” she said and sat down beside him.

“Advice?” Kane asked.

“Your adverts! No more of that silly dance routine”

“You are a dancer, eh?”

“Yes” she said, smiling.

“Well I play the yota”

“Do you? My father used to play it too. Tricky stuff! You need to blow and strum all at the same time. I could never time it right” she said.

“It does need a little practice. My old man made me play a harmonica and a guitar together to get the hang of it” Kane downed half the drink in one go, the heat searing through his throat.

She was so easy to talk to, he thought. He could speak free, without the fear of thinking what she might interpret. They talked on the ancient art of music, singing and dancing. It turned out Effie was a student of arts in St. Luso’s school of fine arts (renamed Canneti school of arts). An hour later, Kane realized, they had downed six cups of grubbly roots and two whole pakanas, those gifts of the tropical forests. Kane thought of leaving but her smile made him stay quite a few more minutes. Just then her comm lighted. A wire frame image of an elderly man with a mustache glowed and Effie rushed to answer. “Mr. Lasek! Yes. Fire? Is everyone all right? Are you sure! Nobody got hurt! I’ll be there in a jiffy.”

Kane looked up at her.

“My house was set on fire tonight. I’m leaving.”

“You mind If I come?”

“I’ll appreciate if you can.”