Cleopatra Hunting

From that moment, Klyuchitsky took over their amorous foreplay, leaving no chance for his partner to take the initiative and almost never picking up on her hints and signs. Maya was flattered by an unusual attitude toward her body at the hands of this huge, strong man and was thrilled by the endless kisses that scattered over the skin like burning stars until she made out certain purposefulness in Klyuchitsky’s actions, clearly aimed at exploring her female assets. The more attentively she listened and looked, the more she became convinced that Leo explored her while caressing: he measured her, weighed and scrutinized as if she was a beautiful heirloom. Maya felt offended and upset.

Klyuchitsky only fell asleep as morning came in, but Maya lay awake for quite some time, staring into the darkness, and listening to the snores of this weird man. She tried to understand him, but, alas, unsuccessfully. One thing Maya knew for sure, though: there was no trace of love today. Why Klyuchitsky, such a charming and passionate man, who clearly felt drawn to her as a woman, and who was so amusingly confused at her sudden nakedness, behaved so unambitiously between the sheets? Maybe the wise classic was right, saying: «With womankind, the less we love them, the easier they become to charm…?»

She tried to remember the rest of the stanza, and succeeded: «The tighter we can stretch above them, enticing nets to do them harm.» But Klyuchitsky was not a philanderer! Maya had neither patience nor wisdom for a deeper insight into the last line, especially since she was not sure of the word-for-word accuracy, so she decided to write it off as her wounded female pride. After all, she had rushed into the arms of this man who turned out to be both kind of decent in bed, but at the same time frighteningly non-standard. Nevertheless, she invited Klyuchitsky to her place not only as a token of gratitude, or after the latter’s hint at the restaurant, but, above all, following her own, selfish motives. But what’s next? They could not just eat and drink all night long. Maya remembered another quote she had read in a wise book: «When left alone, a man and a woman would hardly indulge in reading paternoster.»

For all intents and purposes, deep down inside, Maya was plagued by not feeling the flush of love, which she, Cleopatra, wanted so badly from her admirer. She felt both passion and contentment, but no inner satisfaction, no comfort. It was like winning the battle, but losing the war. Deep down inside her, Maya did not get closer to Klyuchitsky in the slightest, although she all but threw herself into his arms, like a hypnotized rabbit would get into a snake’s jaws.

This comparison made Maya feel uneasy and creepy…

«Maybe it’s better to keep it simple?» – She thought. – «Maybe Klyuchitsky is a real man, who is not into sentimentality, but, on the plus side, he will help me to put my plans in place. The trick is not to follow any momentary moods! He offered me an extra work, which means extra money. Isn’t this what I need right now? But for what price? Better not to think about it. Everything is fine! My faithful vassal and lover is by my side. The bottom line is not to pry into his heart, just like one would do with a deportee, and to leave all sorts of questions behind. But still, why am I still awake at this late hour then?»

And once again, Maya remembered the lines from the Egyptian Nights:

…And only on a bed of gold
The proud empress is not sleeping.
She listens carelessly to distant noises,
And looks onwards with a cloudy brow
At spouse of hers, who’s laying on the couch.
Ah, only yesterday she poured
the passion into veins of his
with all the lustiness of her female frisson
All for her lord. – Alas!
He settled, fell asleep, and still is sleeping.
The queen looks gloomily
At dreams so dispassionately calm
And in her breast, a sultry alarm sets in.

Finally, she calmed down, put her head on Klyuchitsky’s broad, muscular chest and fell asleep…

* * *

Prison compound, fenced with a barbed wire, was both a gold mine and a honey pot for Klyuchitsky. His talent of addressing the urgent needs of prisoners brought him no less profit than his fairly good salary – along with all bonuses, benefits and dodgy additions. Over the years of working in this compound, Klyuchitsky fit in perfectly, or you could even say, grew into it and learned to easily maneuver between the cons, the security, and the authorities both inside the prison fence and outside of it. With the skill of a fakir, he moved from the ordinary world to the world behind the barbed wire and back, carrying with him the things that filled the voids of both of these worlds and added to the earnings of Klyuchitsky himself. He began his business with the honourable Samaritan aid for the builder’s tea addicts – the chifirists, who, in his opinion, suffered most, were hardworking, humble and undemanding people. All it took to cater to their needs was ordinary black tea, which was freely sold in all the food stores of the city. After downing a brown, thick, tar-like fluid, a chifirist works frantically, without eating and drinking, without scandals, riots, and fights. He would never rat out those who gave him his pack of tea, for betrayal can deprive him of his venerable medicine forever, and he will do everything possible and impossible for the sake of his benefactor.

But chifirists are not the only ones who need tea in the compound. A tea-pot full of green tea is worth no less than a pack of black one in this exhausting heat. For the patients, green tea is both food and the balm for the soul. For the weak, it is a source of cheerfulness and for strong people it brings confidence. The tea unites people of different beliefs; it pulls together the like-minded, loosening the tongues of taciturn people, softening cruelty, sharpening the hearing, clarifying the thoughts and invigorating the body. Those who have the tea, are confident in their future, believe that their sentence can be commuted, that they will not get killed here and that they will get out soon…