Misplaced (125 page)

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Authors: SL Hulen

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The
y
hunte
d
fo
r
a
roo
m
whil
e
th
e
sk
y
darkened
.
T
wice,
Khara
w
aited
outside,
w
atching
for
Mieley
while
V
ictoria
w
ent
inside.
“The
police
may
be
looking
for
us,”
she

d
reasoned.
“If
so, two women will draw more attention.”

The
second
time,
she
returned
looking
satisfied
with
herself
and singing,

A girl’s gotta
do what a girl’s gotta
do.”

“Y
ou
w
ere able to find
something?”

“I
told
the
clerk
that
I
w
as
scouting
accommodations
fo
r
nex
t
y
ea
r

s
conferenc
e
o
n
immigratio
n
reform
,
an
d
w
e

d
need e
v
ery room in this hotel and se
v
eral others. Voilà!
W
e got
a
suite!
It
won’t
be
ready
for
a
while,
though.
Khara?
Are
you
listening?”

Her
sights
had
settled
on
the
building
at
the
opposite
end
o
f
th
e
square
.
“Le
t
u
s
w
ai
t
someplac
e
mor
e
discreet
.
A
t
the
church,” she suggested, pointing.

“No
w
there

s
a
s
urpri
s
e,

V
i
c
tori
a
an
s
w
ere
d
an
d
Khara
could not tell how she meant it.

Refusing
to
go
inside,
V
ictoria
stood
obstinately
outside
the
Lorett
o
Chapel
,
unde
r
a
y
ellow-leafe
d
tree
.
Keepin
g
he
r
e
y
es
on
the
ground,
she
attempted
to
mollify
Khara
by
handing
her
a
bill
.
“I

l
l
w
ai
t
here,

sh
e
announced
,
self-consciously
.

T
ake
your time.”

“V
ictoria—”

Seriously
,
tak
e
a
s
lon
g
a
s
yo
u
w
ant
.
Jus
t
don’
t
includ
e
me.”
A
t
th
e
smal
l
des
k
jus
t
inside
,
Khar
a
w
aited
,
he
r
heart
fluttering.
When
it
w
as
her
turn,
she
pushed
the
wrinkled
bill
into a metal dra
w
er and
w
alked inside.

A middle-aged man called, “
Y
our change, miss.”
She looked back at the sil
v
er coins.

“Keep it, Father.”

“That’s
v
ery
generous
of
you.
I’m
not
a
priest,
though.
The
chape
l
w
a
s
deconsecrate
d
b
y
th
e
Catholi
c
Churc
h
mor
e
than
forty
y
ears
ago;
it’s
more
of
a
museum
now.
Are
you
sure
you
don’t
w
ant some change back?”

Khar
a
ha
d
littl
e
us
e
fo
r
museums
.
Th
e
traged
y
that
ha
d
befalle
n
th
e
Grea
t
Sphin
x
stil
l
haunte
d
her
,
a
s
di
d
the
unimaginabl
e
disgrac
e
tha
t
ha
d
befalle
n
th
e
mumm
y
o
f
Ramses
the
Great,
which
had
been
re
v
ealed
to
her
on
public
television.
“Then it is no longer a holy place?”

“Y
ou

ll ha
v
e to decide that for yourself.”

Defea
t
accompanie
d
he
r
throug
h
th
e
woode
n
door
s
and
ont
o
th
e
re
d
carpet
.
Th
e
light-stone-and-gold-trimme
d
columns
coul
d
easil
y
ha
v
e
bee
n
i
n
a
n
Egyptia
n
temple
.
Sh
e
imagined
that,
at
any
moment,
she
would
hear
the
gentle
swoosh
of
the
High
Priest’s
robes
and
Unam
would
appear
like
the
v
apor
of
incense.
He
had
been
con
v
eniently
missing
on
the
day
Nandor
sent
her
fathe
r
’s
traitors
to
the
next
life
in
pieces.
She
closed
her
e
y
es, banishing the image from her mind.

A
woma
n
w
earin
g
a
y
ellow-brimme
d
ha
t
an
d
a
blouse
wit
h
n
o
slee
v
e
s
hurrie
d
pas
t
her
.
Behin
d
he
r
trudge
d
a
man
w
earing
the
expression
of
the
truly
oppressed.
“Hurry
up,
Mel!
Y
o
u
w
an
t
t
o
se
e
th
e
miraculou
s
staircase
,
don’
t
you?

When
the
large
woman
whispered,
her
voice
re
v
erberated
down
the
carpete
d
aisl
e
an
d
floate
d
up
w
ard
,
bouncin
g
of
f
th
e
milk
y
stone
arche
s
o
f
th
e
ceiling
.
H
e
shrugge
d
an
d
follo
w
ed
,
an
d
Khara
follo
w
e
d
him
.
A
t
th
e
foo
t
o
f
a
woode
n
staircase
,
th
e
woman
halted
.
Th
e
ma
n
seeme
d
reluctan
t
t
o
joi
n
he
r
an
d
lef
t
a
large
space bet
w
een them, which Khara quickly filled.

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