Stranded Angel

Set In the Summer of 1936

A continuing story written by Mr. Simon Barber & Mr. David R. Dorrycott

Angelica Silferlindh copyright Mr. Freddy Andersson.

Songmark Academy & related characters copyright Mr. Simon Barber

Oharu and related characters copyright Mr. David R. Dorrycott

Part Seven

by Mr. David R. Dorrycott

Spontoon priestess Oharu Wei thought back to the day when Tehepoa had returned, having followed the Euro Angelica to Casino Island and back. She remembered with fondness that when he finished his report to her that she had said “You did well.” She also remembered that her words had surprised the younger fox. As she waited for the sunrise her other words drifted through her memory. “You were to watch her, to insure that no harm came to her. This you have succeeded.” She had then reached out, scratching the young male behind his ear in an unexpected show of affection. “I am proud of you. Now return home. I will see you tonight.” She had then watched in pride as the confused fox hurried away. Even after over thirty hours of no sleep the native born had shown no difficulty handling Spontoon’s semi-hidden paths.

Now looking down to the tiny village fires below her a harder expression came to the mouse’s face. Nikki’s contacts, contacts Oharu was somewhat certain she herself knew, had finally brought the truth of what had occurred that night to the mouse. “So. You have been selling pearls” she said to herself. “ That was known. But you sold a valuable pearl. One that could have fed many within your village. All for your own gain. This will not be allowed.” It could not be allowed. Such a prize happened perhaps once every generation, rarely twice.

Oharu calmed herself, sensing the sun’s approach to the horizon. She would wait. Wait until the lithe feline began her day. Behind the mouse, in a bamboo carrier, was a replica of the poster now gracing much of Spontoon. This replica though had been created by Oharu herself. Many nights’ hours had been spent getting every line just right. It was much the same as the original, with exceptions. It was, in truth, the best work Oharu had ever done. Angelica’s face was now completely recognizable and the form shown was much more blatant that the high society girl would accept. Nothing was hidden. Nothing. Even the dancer’s form seemed more fluid. Certainly much more enticing. It had taken after all only rearranging one banana’s position, and a bit of added detail to the upper torso. Of course Angelica would destroy this drawing, but it was only a print. One of over three hundred waiting to overnight replace those original posters now available to the public eye.

Blackmail was a hard thing for a Priestess to reach for, but theft from a child’s future, perhaps their very life was even worse. Her trip to China had left the mouse with a harder view of what could be done, a slightly colder soul and no stomach for law-breakers. It had left her feeling the weight of her world upon her shoulders. A weight she knew now was certain to crush her, but her work was too important to set even one item aside. Or she was too proud. Even the mouse wasn’t certain, and she knew not what to do about it. Her patience was, for certain things, at an end. Perhaps she was near madness-- certainly her heart raged within her for no good reason. “I will forget her” she suddenly whispered, pushing a thought aside like so much ash from last month’s fire.

After a bit more than a half hour after sunrise, late for those of the village below, Oharu watched as Angelica cheerfully walked to her plane. It would be a shock to her when she discovered what Oharu carried. It would be a greater shock when Oharu gave her ultimatum. Huakava had spoken with the mouse about this Euro just last week. Because of the actions of Tehepoa (who would one day may make a fine Wild Priest) and his two friends Angelica was to be helped-- when such help could be given. She was also to be guided, shown the path of lawfulness. Yet when required, such as now, she was to be struck down. Hard. At the moment the mouses heart boiled with her loss, and she had no care if its heat burned the feline below.

Unknown to the mouse she was beginning to destroy herself.

“…baby. We’ll be out of here...” Angelica was telling her aircraft as Oharu walked up.

“Not this season” the mouse finished. “Or next.”

Angelica spun in place, her borrowed lava-lava covering her form well but its minimal cloth could not possibly hide the promise of the body it currently covered. A promise that currently held little interest to the angry mouse. “Who are you!?” the Swedish woman demanded. “Back again?”

“Oharu Wei,” the mouse answered solemnly, outwardly calm. Inwardly ashamed at her own loss of control. “Priestess in training. I now become your conscience. Such as you have.”

“Conscience?” the feline laughed. “You? No.”

“Yes.” Oharu sat on a stone, putting herself between the cat and her adopted village. “You stole from who help you. This not be allowed.”

“Stole? I’m no thief!” Angelica snapped, stepping back to place herself against her aircraft. “I worked hard for the money I have.”

Oharu eased her bamboo tube down, letting it sit on the sand. For several moments she looked inward, hunting the cause of her anger. “Angelica,” she replied with a desert calm voice, its sound that of sands upon dunes. “Everyone works hard. For after tourists have gone are few jobs. Money earned, saved for lean times. Between seasons. Thus true for guides, entertainers, fishers... and pearl divers.”

“Pearl divers?” the feline repeated, hesitation now in her voice. She looked around expecting the law to step out from behind every bush.

There Oharu decided. ‘I cannot forget her. I must place aside, for today. Today at least, I will forget her.’ Her inner anger cooled, bringing sanity back to her mind. Truly, Molly was tearing her apart. “We alone,” she assured the younger, and so much more beautiful woman. “You sold many small pearls. This known but ignored. It harmed only own soul do so. You not native. Could not know why such sales important to village.”

“Know what?” Angelica asked, her courage building knowing she was alone with this woman. “That I’m not wanted here? That I can’t leave? That my aircraft doesn’t want to fly.…”

“For 'Mommie'?” Oharu finished with a smile. Her anger had cooled completely, but she would need serious time tomorrow to return her center. It was impossible to forget her. “I listen, I hear, I remember. Angelica, you leave any time wish. Ask for money from home. Buy ticket. No one holds you.”

Angelica’s paw touched the silver aircraft behind her. “I won’t leave her,” she retorted. There was more than ownership in that tone. There was love. Almost the same love of a mother for her child.

Interesting, Oharu thought. But why such attachment?

“Aircraft is bound here. Cannot leave.” It was a small twist of the truth. Should Angelica hire a pilot, yes, the aircraft would fly. Oharu though, was banking on the feline’s fierce independence to blind her to that truth. Her independence and her strange love for a machine.

Stepping closer to the mouse Angelica balled her paws into fists, placing them against her hips as she leaned over the sitting woman. “If you think I’m leaving my plane here, you’re crazy. I’m going to order fuel to be delivered. Then I’m leaving.”

“No one sell you fuel Angelica. No one help you. No one accept money from you. Not stolen money.” It was an effort of will not to stare into that pale soft fur Angelica so easily exposed. An effort Oharu wished she did not have to make-- would not have had to make had she not tried to forget. ‘I am a fool’ she told herself as another flickering image of the doe she so loved swept through her mind. ‘A fool with no future.’ Yet she must appear disinterested, or all would be for nothing. Angelica’s scent though was another matter. Without comment she inhaled that clean scent. It seemed to help her heart.

“So...” Angelica stepped back, lightly wringing her paws. “So I’m stuck here?”

“Surrender money paid by criminals. Surrender to those accepted you. They understand. They forgive. That money meant food for children, clothing, medicine.”

“Give up my money? No. What will I do for a living?”

Oharu shrugged, reaching down to pick up her bamboo tube. Angelica’s scent was intoxicating, but not quite mindlessly overwhelming. Not like Molly’s. Thus she was able to enjoy it without danger of losing herself at all. “I arrange with those do such things. They grant working visa. Also hunting license. With training. I certain that your looks, if are kind enough, you make ten times what have hidden.”

“’Hunting license’?” the feline asked, confusion in her voice.

“Hunt lonely men, women. Grant pleasure your company. Perhaps more. I understand is good money be had. Were not accepted become Priestess. Then I become Huntress. Not for money-- for survival. I no other skills. There no shame this land that path. None at all.”

Angelica had the consideration to be shocked at the suggestion. Shocked just long enough for Oharu to cover her ears. Her scream though could probably be heard all the way to San Frisco. “ME! A painted lady? What do you take me for!?” the feline demanded.

Lowering her paws Oharu smiled, as this was the point she had been working towards. Pulling out one of the two posters from her tube she held it carefully in her paws. “Self-centered childish, selfish thief,” she answered truthfully. “Whose parents so crass to send out anyone see this.” She held out the rolled paper tube. “Spontoon families be proud their children be seen such. Where I born, I do this would be expected I take own life. Or father would do for me. I assume you society fall somewhere between?”

Accepting the paper tube Angelica unrolled the poster, one Oharu had been given by a business owner who did not want such in his higher class establishment. Huakava’s gift though was well stored in her hut, for though she had gotten over her almost touch with that one string, Angelica was still a very beautiful woman. “I wore more than this!” the feline gasped. “He let this be made? I’ll kill him!” She glared at the mouse. “And it is him only priestess. My mother is dead.”

“”My apologies your mother. Artist was good, yes, but not that good. These now over all Spontoon. They have for some time. They over entire ocean, perhaps world now. At least where father does business. Everywhere you travel. These be known.”

Wadding up the heavy paper poster Angelica tossed it into the waves. “I can live with that. I don’t like it but I can live with it. I just want to leave this place forever.”

“You not return money?” the mouse asked sadly.

“No. Nothing you say or do will change my mind.”

Oharu sighed in defeat, carefully withdrawing her second poster. It was an action, though she was ready to make, she had no true desire to follow. “Then in morning this replace posters. More be shipped other islands. With permission reproduce.”

Again Angelica unrolled a poster. Her reaction this time though was stunned shock. Slowly the feline collapsed onto the sand, her tail popping lightly as it hit the earth. “Who drew this?” she managed to ask after some time.

“I.”

“You? Your talents are wasted as a priestess. This could be a photograph.” She continued to study the poster. “Even my mole... But how did you know I have one there? Never mind. This is blackmail.”

“Yes” Oharu agreed.

“Evil, nasty blackmail. Priestess. You have no idea what I’ve been through. How hard it’s been. How hard I’ve suffered. The pain I’ve born learning to survive here.”

“You suffered nothing,” the mouse corrected. “You have worked, your body become healthier. You lay in sun. Fur lighten. You become attractive many males, several very rich females. Some Euros. Want take home with. You have great number furs would accept you their lives. For nothing but healthy body you have. Other not being able fly you suffered nothing.”

Still holding the poster Angelica felt her temper rising. “And what, little witch mouse, makes you think you know suffering better than I?”

Silently Oharu rose, ignoring the insult while letting the bamboo tube fall away to the sand. Reaching up she untied her own lava-lava, letting it fall as well. Then she turned her back to the feline. Reaching up she pulled her long hair away from her scarred back. “This,” she answered. For several minutes she stood thus, could have stood thus for hours, perhaps days. Letting her hair drop she turned to face the devastated feline. “This,” she continued, pointing to the white ring of fur around her throat. “I was hung. Thus voice.” Opening her mouth she ran her one clawless finger along slightly lighter colored teeth. “These false.” Kneeling to gather her lava-lava she stood again, holding it in a wad against her stomach in a manner only another woman could understand. “And more darkness-- I not insult you by the telling. Tell me proud, arrogant Euro: I understand suffering?”

“I’ll give up the money” Angelica managed to say, her voice now tiny. She was horrified that anyone could do something to a woman, especially such a delicate looking woman as the mouse was. If they could do that to the mouse she thought, then what could they do to her? “Then what?”

“No posters change. You remain this village until able leave. Forever. I personally insure you not deported. I try find you employment-- pilots always needed. Perhaps Nikki hire you. I will ask. You steal no more from village. Until leave be kind those who kind to you.”

“What do you get out of this?” the Swedish feline asked, waiting for the trap to shut completely around her.

“I serve,” Oharu explained. “On this day I serve village. Perhaps serve you. Tomorrow, perhaps someone else. I ‘get’ nothing.”

“You said I was under a curse. Can you fix that?”

“I working on that,” Oharu admitted. “Have little free time. Still do what can. Would be easier you tried understand those about you. Still, is your choice.”

Angelica carefully rolled up the poster in her paws. “So you’re my Guardian Angel then.”

“No Angelica. I your conscience. When things too difficult for you, come to me. When you unsure. Come to me. I listen. I do what can to help. No one your guardian angel. That your responsibility.”

“Come to you? Like, take me to your bed like those girls did” Angelica asked, suspicion heavy in her voice. “I laughed at you, you know. The first time.”

“At moment I deserve laughter” Oharu admitted. “I accepted truth it was. There no insult. Still worry not. You very beautiful woman, Angelica. Whomever you choose life mate be exceptionally blessed. Though is truth I prefer own kind, you not Molly. You cannot interest my heart. I never touch you. You hold no interest me that way.”

Still suspicious, it was what made her such a successful partner in her fathers business Angelica fished for the hook. There was always a hook. But how deeply was it set? Was there any way of blunting it, or avoiding it completely? “And you’re not my Guardian Angel. So, if someone were to drug me and drag me away?”

Oharu looked towards the village behind her, then back to Angelica. “Friends. Have you any? I have owned slave. I think you be difficult to train. Not impossible, not hard like her. Only those willing die impossible to train. You want live. You break. Nikki enjoy breaking you my bed, I ask her. She already owe big favor. Bigger than that. No Angelica, I not raise a claw your defense. You not yet earned such. Not from I.” She looked again towards the village. “Not from them.” Picking up her bamboo tube she gave the feline one last hard look. “No one asks you believe we believe. No one wants change your beliefs. Your tastes. All is asked from you respect for others. True, honest respect. Nothing more. Good day, Angelica. I hope that we meet again. But not at feet in collar. Nothing else.”

She turned to leave, having made only a few steps before the feline called out. “Priestess.”

“Yes?”

“Release the poster.”

Turning to face the cat Oharu kept a laugh back only by effort of will. “You realize what this mean?”

Angelica, though, did laugh. A sweet, happy laugh this time. “My father wanted to embarrass me. Let me show him through this what true embarrassment is. If you could survive what happened to you, I most certainly will survive something as painless as the leers of those who know what is there that they will never have what they wish. And Priestess? Knowing some of what you have been through, I now understand your hardness towards me. Now I must go explain things to certain people; then give them the shells I have. Would you join me?”

“I be honored.” Oharu held out the bamboo tube. “If wish keep that, perhaps this prove useful.” Silently she unfolded her lava-lava and slipped it back on while Angelica replaced the poster into its bamboo tube. “Let us go.”

Much later that afternoon Oharu returned to the Great Stone Glen. It had been as she had suspected. Angelica’s small thefts had been suspected, perhaps known. But she was a Euro. Such things were what Euros did. Her admission of guilt. Her surrender of so much money (more than Oharu had expected) had warmed the villagers’ hearts. Right now, much to the girl’s embarrassment they were making her one of their own. If she wished there were many young males who (as Butterfly had explained the slang), were tripping over their tongues. So were a pawful of women for that matter the mouse had noticed.

In truth Oharu wished the outlander well. It had taken hard blackmail to open her eyes, but less than what the priestess was ready to do. This Winter there would be a little more than usual upon people’s plates. More than usual for their children. A Euro who would have been a dragging weight had instead become a useful pair of paws. What the pearl was that Angelica had stolen was unknown to the mouse-- for though she had once spent a day watching pearl divers in her home country she had no knowledge of the things. In truth, she barely understood what precious gems were, having seen but less than a pawful in her entire life. Malou had kept her’s packed away during their escape and Oharu had not visited the Chinese woman’s new shop. All that had no interest to her at the moment. Joining her three waiting students she looked up at the sky: “Ote’he.”

“Yes, Priestess?” the youngest girl asked.

“You will sing the sun-sleep song.”

“Yes, Priestess” the young badger agreed.

Oharu watched the girl hurry off to prepare. So did her life, her routine, continue.

Back at North Village it was a clear night, black as coal so far from civilized lighting. Angelica lay on her aircraft’s port wing, her best dress now clinging tightly to her body as she watched the stars above her. Not long ago she had danced with her own kind. Had tasted champagne again. Had dreamed of flying home. Then came the morning and what followed. Finally that priestess. After that, all her all of Angelica’s dreams had crashed to the sea in flames.

It could have gone worse the cat admitted to herself. That priestess, Oha something, could have brought the coppers. But she hadn’t. She’d come alone and talked. No real threats-- her blackmail would only have been embarrassing. Only that. It was the real danger she had mentioned: That no one would lift a claw were she to be kidnaped. That no one would help her if she were laying broken on the forest floor. That last threat hadn’t been said fully, but the implication was clear. No, she could accept another season here, another year, or she could fend for herself.

Not that Angelica couldn’t fend for herself in civilization. But this was the dark jungle. Why, already she had done things she would never have dreamed of. Shown her body to others than her maid, or the Doctor. One such thing she had done still turned her stomach at the thought. Still the truth was she had become a thief. A crass cheap thief. Her father would be unhappy, her mother, had she still lived would be disgraced. Instead of cold jail and the loss of her precious plane she had been given a way out of her current situation-- not forced. Simply a gate had been left open that she could take or leave. Angelica knew the mouse was right. She was stuck up, she was selfish, but she wasn’t an idiot.

So now she was an official member of this tribe, or clan or village or whatever they called themselves. Fully accepted. Meaning she was expected to pull her own weight from tomorrow on. That Priestess had mentioned a job, and suggested a woman who might hire her. Then nearly in the same breath admitted that same woman would gladly break her for the mouse if she asked. That silk-covered warning wasn’t missed by the feline either. Do good or be done to. Okay, she would do good. But as soon as she could get away from these cursed islands she was never coming back. No. It was Stockholm for her from now on. Good old safe-and-sane Europe. Where civilized people knew how to treat people correctly.

Above her a bolide silently ripped through the sky. It was headed west, its green and blue light casting shadows. Silently Angelica wondered if it was a warning, or a promise. Whatever it was there was nothing she could do about it now. Gradually she slipped into sleep, the gentle rocking of her plane easing her into a rest she hadn’t had for a long time. Images of that poster the Priestess had made silently danced in her head. If only she could hire the woman to do work for her family’s company. And they shared one thing in common. Both disliked bananas. Angelica’s last wakeful thought was of the pineapple the mouse had shared with her, and the kindness still evident in her ruined voice.