INDIAN DIRTY AMATEURS
Julie’s laptop was on the living room table. I opened it up and brought up Skype.As I typed, the memory slowed again. It didn’t pause, but it had done this before. From what we’d inferred, it was my subconscious’ way of getting my attention about something.“The sleeves.” I noticed, watching my hand slowly mousing over Helen’s number and clicking the phone icon. “Julie doesn’t own any red velvet...”Suzy-Q voiced the thought as I had it.“You put it on in the dark. All of Julie’s robes are fancy ones that she stole from hotels; mostly Helen’s. There’s only one red velvet garment in this house that ties around the waist like that, and it’s not a Santa suit.”In my reflection on the screen before Maria appeared, I saw it: I’d been wearing Propappou’s red velvet smoking jacket the night I called Helen to bitch her out about the gift bag.“Wow,” Sue uttered. “She is fucking amazing.”“I wouldn’t expect you to say that about Helen, Sue. Based on ... well, most of what you’ve historically said. Yet with Frank... Mona shook her head, her raven black hair tumbling around her shoulders. She didn't want to think about that. Tonight would be different. She'd make it different!Beside the robe she'd placed on the river bank, she found a small bottle of perfume. Carefully, she dabbed droplets on all the vital areas of her body. The fragrance wafted through the air. It was the same perfume she'd worn when Frank and she first started dating. This bottle had been purchased to revive whatever had first sparked Frank's interest.Capping the bottle, Mona lifted her robe, slipped it on and tied it loosely around her waist so that the neck opened in a wide "V", exposing a bountiful expanse of titflesh. She wished the robe were one of those wicked, black lacy gowns she'd seen advertised in the magazines, but it was all she had and it would have to serve its purpose.She breathed deeply, filling her lungs, steadying herself. Then she started back to the camp. The fire was no more than glowing.
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