This Tale in the Spirit is from a parallel universe to which some super
psychic minds, and what are called Life in the Spirit groups, are attune
to. (refer Natural Telepaths web page http://www.5glsoftware.org/ctsite.htm).
In this parallel universe, Lana and Darth remain much the same image as when
they first met, even though in ordinary life the tale may span even decades.
Their telepathic children choose their age, usually much the same as in ordinary
life, but then they tend to stop wanting to be older. Thus Sara is still 18,
and Lisa 16, and so on, even when they are now adults in ordinary life. In
their parallel universe they prefer to still be children in their house and
living with their family.
The super psychics party to this Way of Life number perhaps 15,000. They
are a mix of what are called Life in the Spirit groups (a mystical experience,
strong virtual realism). At the low ends of their telepathy, it is much like
a replica of ordinary life with families and jobs and the reason the tale
is so easily translated into ordinary life.
In this parallel universe, it is the “souls” which are the images of the
characters. The novel attempts to capture this connection between the souls
especially between Lana and Darth.
An aspect of Lana’s personality which may be of interest in understanding
Lana is that she does not like Muslim men, in the sense of potential husbands
or lovers.
Chapter 1 - A Man and a Woman
A twist of fate can be ever so deceptive. Who would have thought the young
Islamic woman on her way to her first job interview, only recently turned
seventeen, would within a year not only be married, and this to a Catholic,
but also would give birth to a child? What sane person would put a wager
on this? The odds are surely astronomical!
On a gloomy day the bus trip into the city seemed extra long. The traffic
chaotic and endless. The traffic lights ever so slow in changing from red
to green. People with open umbrellas everywhere, many standing bunched under
shelters. Lana sat in her Islamic black with a head covering looking through
the window. Heavy rain streaks obscured the view. Parts of her dress were
damp and this was not comfortable.
Lana was late for an appointment. She frequently glanced at her wrist watch.
This was her first application for a job since she finished High School.
A bright pupil, top of her class and the youngest in her year, with an ambition
to become a teacher of Islam. She would need to attend a University, which
she planned to do, but in the meantime she needed money. This job was with
a bank.
When the bus came to her stop Lana rushed to the tall building, holding her
long dress to avoid getting the edges wet. She walked through the rotating
glass doors and asked the receptionist about conference room 202. Into an
elevator and along a corridor and she sat down on a leather lounge, leaning
her umbrella, which she had not opened, against the lounge. She glanced at
the two young attractive women and one man waiting.
"Am I the only one late?" She smiled.
"The manager is late." One of the young ladies explained. "Apparently he
had been caught in a bad wet patch. His car stalled. Had to call NRMA and
they took a long time. His secretary came out before saying she did not know
when he will be in."
"Oh." Lana relaxed. Her head turned to the man sitting at the far end of
this long lounge. A young man, older than she, good looking, busy reading
newspaper through glasses. What struck her was his long hair. Not that fashionable
anymore. Light brown hair with possibly patches of blond at the base. This
suggested he was a surfer. Certainly, so Lana thought, he looked healthy
and fit and strong. His shoulders, she observed, were broad male looking
- unlike the lady shoulders that young Muslim males whom her father knew
and more and more would come around. She liked broad shoulders.
"Are you here for the interview?" A young woman asked Lana.
"I am. My first job interview." She nodded.
"Can I ask, hope this is not rude." The other young woman asked. "If you
do get this job, will you wear your Islamic outfit? And not the uniform of
a bank teller?"
"I have not thought about it." Lana smiled. "I don't wear this much. I don't
mind wearing a uniform. I was told this manager is an Arab, and a Muslim,
and the reason I chose to wear this."
"If you don't mind wearing a uniform," the man spoke and Lana turned to him,
"then try an air hostess. Judging by your long legs and figure, they would
welcome you aboard."
She wanted to ignore that comment, feeling it was sexist, and in any case
he could not truly tell how good her figure was because of the wide Islamic
dress - but something made her ask, "you are also applying for a bank teller's
job?"
"No," the man shook his head, "and, wow, I adore that Islamic submissive
tone! No, I am here for a loan writer’s job. I didn’t know this manager had
asked others. I will wait. So miserable and cold outside."
"What qualifications do you need for that?" A young woman asked.
"Not much. It is basically a salesman’s job." The young man explained. "I
do have a University degree, albeit it in science with a major in physics
and computing, but I am confident I can get accepted. This is my first ever
interview. Mind you, if my mother was not an immigrant and relatively poor,
I would have much preferred to study medicine than take on a sales position."
"Why is it a sales job?" Lana smiled. This did not add up.
"Because...you do have a lovely smile." The man closed his newspaper and
put his reading glasses inside the top of his suit. "The whole concept of
money, of large mortgage loans, and the options available, goes above peoples
heads. Almost without exception a client makes a decision based on trust,
rapport, perceived loyalty to one bank or another, those sorts of things,
and not good financial sense. I can talk easily, to anyone, and the reason
a manager at a local bank suggested I contact this particular manager with
a view of that position. So I did. Anyway, one bank or the other? Banks rip
people off by huge profits but they don't cheat them intentionally. I don't
have a problem with the ethics and morals of such a job. In truth, one of
my buddies forced my hand. He got an offer of a loan for a house, in writing,
with the interest rate stated. I said to him to take that letter to another
bank and they will better the interest rate. He would not have a bar of this!
Arguing about loyalty to this particular bank. Loyalty? If the interest rate
lifts and he can not afford the repayments, the bank will show no loyalty
or sympathy and will kick him out quick smart. If on the other hand he had
done as I told him, his repayments would be much lower and he could weather
more interest rate rises. When it comes to serious money people are usually…naïve…some
would say most are fools. The world belongs to the rich, they know how to
make money."
To Lana this made sense. She recalled her own father obtaining a car loan
and he would insist the bank he was with, was the one he would borrow from.
Even after Lana found a Building Society that offered a better deal, her
father did not want to know.
“I suppose.” Lana smiled. She loved his explanation. Not too complicated
and conveyed the issue well.
Just then the secretary came out. "I am sorry. John, that's the manager,
rang saying he can not get across to the city. Police had blocked a road
due to flooding. He is going back home. He asked that I schedule the interviews
for the same time tomorrow. Is that all right?"
"No, it is certainly not all right." The man stood up. "But we have no choice."
Lana walked to the lift behind the man. Long legs? How could he have worked
that out? A lovely smile? No one ever said this before. As they waited she
said, "that was an honest reply - are you sure you are a salesman?"
"No, not sure, but they pay exceptionally well eventually, and provide a
car after twelve months. I do need that car more than anything else - mine
barely starts nowadays." Darth replied. "My name is Darth. Yours?"
Lana glanced away, bit her lip, feeling apprehensive. She turned and smiled.
"Lana."
They stepped inside the lift. Darth hit the ground floor button.
"Love that name. If you want this bank teller job," Darth smiled as the lift
was travelling down, "then have a cup of coffee with me. You are much too
nervous, it is what I sense."
Lana did not think much of Darth’s name but said not a word.
"And how will having a coffee with you make me less nervous? This is my first
job interview." Lana said as the lift stopped and they stepped outside. With
her figure, especially on sport’s days when her incredible long legs were
on display, she had been asked out since she was fifteen. She had learnt
to keep her options open. Usually when she mentioned she was a Muslim such
an offer would lapse. This man just confused her – he knew she was a Muslim
but he still asked?
"Another reason to have a coffee with me." Darth said. "I will give you some
tips."
Lana took a good look at this young man. Did he not say this was his first
interview? Lana was sure he mentioned this. She decided not to remind him.
He did strike her as trustworthy. He had an easy manner - a touch too assertive
for her liking but bearable, perhaps something she might want to imitate
at her interview. She glanced through the glass outside doors. Cold and yakky.
A legitimate reason to stay indoors seemed a much better option. Parts of
her dress were wet from the short journey into the building.
“All right, I will have a coffee with you, in that café." Lana pointed
to a nearby cafe.
Inside the café it was warm and busy. A fire had been lit in the fireplace
and they sat as close as they could to it. A waitress gave them a menu.
"Just two coffees, mine a Cappuccino please." Darth said.
"Mine too." Lana smiled at the waitress.
“It is hot in here – so lovely. Maybe my dress will dry. What awful
rain!”
"You do have a lovely smile. Love your Islamic tone too. I wonder if there
is anything about you which is not perfect?" Darth leant forward. "Seriously,
with your figure, not that I can see much with that heavy black gown, and
your face, your smile, your eyes, your sensual lips, your mystic eyelashes,
you would be great as an airline hostess and they pay top money. The other
day I saw an advertisement for air hostesses for QANTAS. Much better than
a bank teller. You could travel, even have a lover in every port."
Lana lowered her eyes. Was this man rude? Arrogant? Sure of himself? Or did
he mean what he said. She lifted her eyes. "I am a Muslim."
"I am a Catholic." Darth put his hand out. "Nice to meet you."
She took his hand, briefly, studying him, and smiled. There was something
about him that was ever so confusing. "Do you do this often? Is that what
it is?" She asked. "You invite girls for coffee? Am I a challenge to you
because I am a Muslim?"
"You are the first young woman I have ever invited on...on...kind of a date
I guess." Darth replied. “And you know, I love that submissive flow but when
you use that firm tone, very feminine but makes me...compels me...frightens
me perhaps...to give you a truth answer.”
"Date?" Lana glanced about. A girl had brought two Cappuccinos and was placing
them on the table. Once she left Lana explained. “Sorry, I use it with my
younger sister when I demand truth from her. It annoys her too.”
"Why do you want to be a bank teller?" Darth sipped his coffee. "Seriously?
It is probably a boring job and I don't think it pays well. With your looks,
your smile, your lovely big eyes – not to mention that submissive tone! -
you can find many jobs. Look, sure, some employers are prejudiced against
Jews or Muslims, whatnot, but most are not. Be confident that you can get
any job you want."
“What if I want to be a surgeon?”
“Within reason...mind you, love to have you as my doctor.” Darth laughed
softly.
Lana took a deep breath. Her heart was palpitating, of this she was certain.
She decided this man was confusing her more than ever. "I don't want
to be a bank teller all my life." Lana sipped her coffee, and turned her
face aside when she saw a Muslim couple walk into the café. "But I
do need the money and because it is not such a popular job, tedious I guess,
I felt I had a fair chance at getting it. I have top marks in my High School
certificate. And I do believe in some strong Islamic values, such as modesty.
I do not like the idea of wearing a...sexy...airline hostess uniform."
"They are not that sexy." Darth shook his head. “Trust me. I have been on
flights and QANTAS uniforms are not that sexy.”
Lana smiled. She narrowed her eyes. He was rather charming. "You have a sense
of humour. Maybe you will make a reasonable salesman."
"I will soon know." Darth leant forward. "I would love to take you on a true
date. Say the theatre, and later dinner...or vice versa. Friday night all
right?"
Lana was looking at his eyes, her own eyes narrowed. "I am a Muslim." She
found herself saying.
"You are a lovely woman and I like you." Darth replied uncertain why she
stressed the Muslim bit. "And we may be working together. In a years time
I will be driving in...well...not sure what but it is the biggest bank in
Australia so I am sure they supply a large modern car...while you may be
struggling as a bank teller and now and then I might give you a ride to show
off. Mind you, not sure a woman as good looking as you would want to be seen
in the car I have now."
Lana put her cup on the plate. She was used to compliments about her looks
and figure. This in itself did not trouble her. His mention of her smile,
and her flow, that intrigued her. She firmed her eyes on his and said softly.
"No, what I meant is that I believe in....in...no sex before marriage...this
is why I stressed the Muslim part. I think I rather like you, you know, but
I am a Muslim." Now she felt ever so silly for mentioning this – because
he clearly could see that she was a Muslim.
"Me too, I am a Catholic." Darth nodded.
Lana narrowed her eyes again. For a moment she felt like tearing at her hair.
This man seemed to have a wit and answer for everything! Instead she lowered
her eyes. Was he serious? Her first impression was that he was such a smooth
talker. She lifted her eyes and shook her head. "I don't believe you."
Darth said softly, "yes, well, that is an advantage a woman has over a man...a
man can know if his wife is...is...you know...but a woman can't."
"You are embarrassing me." Lana turned her head aside – but she was pleased
he had used the word “wife” and not girlfriend.
"I didn't start talking about sex. I have never met a Muslim before and I
did not know that the word Muslim also conveys sex, in whichever way. Next
time a Muslim stresses they are Muslim, I will know it has something to do
with sex. All right?" Darth protested. “And I have to go to a barber later
and loose this surfing long hair, and I am delaying that as much as I can.
I meant to do it this morning before the interview but the rain was horrendous.”
Darth had said the first sentence rather loud, causing eyes of others to
turn, causing Lana to feel ashamed and lower her head. She felt hot and red.
What she did like, but stopped herself from laughing, was how he entertained
her with that flow about Muslims and sex. The man definitely had wit! A scarce
commodity. Even so, she wondered if she ought to leave right then. She barely
heard the man say, "and if you don't accept my offer of a date, I will loose
all my confidence. Isn't charity an Islamic virtue? If you cause me to loose
confidence, and I don't get this job tomorrow, this may rest on your conscience
for the rest of your life."
Lana finally relaxed and smiled. Then, against all her good sense, against
all her better judgement, against all that was the true Islam in her, she
found herself saying, "all right, if you are game, then so am I. But how
are we to organise this? You can't call my house. If my father or mother
answer, I will hear no end of it. Give me your number and...well...say this
Friday...you get the tickets...I will pay you half later...and I will give
you a ring on Friday afternoon."
"That's a sale!" Darth put his hand out. Lana laughed. She shook his hand.
Darth took out a note from his briefcase, and a pen, and handed it over.
"Sign on the dotted line."
Lana puzzled.
“Write my telephone number in your own handwriting in case your mother comes
across it."
“Oh!” Lana felt this was clever and wrote his number down.
They finished their coffee and left together. The rain became more heavy.
They stood under the shelter of the front door. Lana decided she would not
venture out until she saw the number of her bus. Darth had a train to catch
and would need to rush else the next train was over an hour away. He also
needed to find a barber and be ready for tomorrow. “Well, might see you tomorrow
then.” He smiled. Lana smiled. Darth rushed off.
Lana watched her young man hurry off, holding his newspaper over his
head. Fit, good looking, love his broad shoulders and those muscular legs,
such thoughts crossed her mind, as well as “I don’t know how he will take
it when he learns I am only seventeen? I am sure he thinks I am closer to
his age. Wonder how old he is? Twenty three? Hmm. Does not look it though.
Is that too old for me? I don’t know, I like him, I think. What should I
wear on Friday? Maybe this same dress just to be on the safe side? Or, should
I expose some of my legs, seeing he made such a fuss over them? No, not this
time, see how we go on Friday. Oh, what I am thinking! Not only is he so
much older than me, but he is not even a Muslim! This Friday is just...just...I
don’t know why I even accepted!”
Darth had to rush to catch his train. It was a matter of need. He had parked
his car at the railway station and caught a train into the city. He parked
in a private carpark and if he stayed more than four hours he would have
to pay ten times as much. He did not have that much on him. When he was aboard
the train and sat down, it finally hit him what he had just achieved
– asked a lovely Muslim young woman on a date. A thought came to him. “I
suppose if I can do that, I won’t have much of a problem selling mortgages,
especially from the biggest bank in the country, people love that bank for
some reason. Once I get my car then I will love that bank too. At the moment
it is all the same to me as to which bank I work for. But why did she accept?
My heart jumped when said yes. Wonder how old she is?”
Come Friday evening they met outside Theatre Royal to see a remake of the
Rocky Horror Show. Lana wore her Islamic black and had a white handbag. Darth
wore a dark blue suit and a tie.
"Hi, did you get that job?" Darth asked. "When I came in the next morning
no one was waiting. Mind you, I was late because my train was cancelled and
I had to wait a long time for the next one.”
"No." Lana shook her head. "I made the mistake of saying, when asked what
I thought about being a bank teller, that it is probably a mundane job. My
mistake. And you?"
“Eh, I trust it was not my fault – did I persuade you that it was a mundane
job?”
“No, not at all.” Lana shook her head and smiled warmly. “Always thought
it was, just slipped out, should not have said it – so did you get your job?”
"Yep, I got it." Darth nodded. "Not so sure that's good. There are three
months of formal training to do with loans, finances, budgets, legal rules
and obligations. In truth, it sounded so heavy that I had to focus on that
car in twelve months time else I might have declined. Then I have to pass
all these tests. Not just pass, I have to get 100% in all of them. Gees.
The pay they offer is actually very low but triples when I pass the tests.
That will be a good pay in fact – and all I have to do is get one commercial
loan deal every month. I can’s see a problem with that, like stealing candies
from a baby because I can talk people into anything if I set my heart
on it. I know that. The bank even supplies what they call leads so I don’t
see what the challenge is? I also get a small amount from each such sale,
on a continual basis. Hmm. Does sound good really, especially that car. Let's
go inside. Our seats are at the back."
Lana smiled. She had warmed to him. She even touched his cheek with her finger,
“yes, you can talk people into the impossible – you talked me into this date.
I am sure you will do well.”
She had said this in such a lovely way Darth made up his mind he had to find
a way to get another date.
They walked up steps and turned, looking for their door which was written
on the ticket. Darth put his hand around her waist briefly as they turned
around a bend. Lana felt a shiver. No one had done that before. She was not
sure if she liked it. She gave him a glance. They went through their doors
and were escorted to seats at the back. So far no one else sat near their
seats.
“Wow!” Darth spoke quietly. “That glance you gave me – the most sexy glance
I have ever seen!”
“Listen." Lana said softly but firmly after she made sure no one could hear.
"I wore this dress on purpose. I don't always wear it. I am a modern Muslim.
I wore it to remind you that I am a Muslim."
"Are we going to talk about sex again?" Darth asked.
Lana turned aside, suddenly feeling hot and bothered, then suppressing a
smile, then putting her hand over her mouth to stop a laugh. She turned to
him and shook her head, "no thank you."
“Do that again in two years time, the way you looked just then, and I will
propose to you. That was a lovely way to look at a man. In your eyes a sense
of affection, of admiration, love even. And how can I forget that you are
a Muslim?" Darth smiled. "Give me a hint - how many dates would a young Muslim
woman go on before she kissed a man?"
Lana turned aside and took a deep breath. This man was again seriously confusing
her! Two years? Did he have tabs on himself? Or maybe this was a touch too
long? She turned to him. "Listen!" She said firmly. "I rather enjoy your
company - except for these questions! How many dates! It does not work like
that with Muslims. Chances are most Muslim girls only kiss a boy when they
are ready for marriage."
"Really?" Darth winked and leant and gave her a kiss. "Works like that for
true Catholic males too."
Lana had closed her eyes as his lips came nearer. She knew what he was about
to do. A part of her was trying to turn her head away - but the rest of her
body refused to move.
"I don't believe you!" Lana moved her head back and said a touch too loudly
and glanced around because others were moving close to their seats. "Are
you trying to tell me...or hint to me...that you have never kissed a girl
before?"
"I did...once." Darth replied. "When I was about fifteen...but I did not
like it."
"Once?"
The lights went out. They remained silent during the first session. As the
intermission began and lights came on they walked outside the main theatre.
"Would you like a drink? Champagne?"
"No.” Lana shook her head. "We are having dinner later...but before we do."
She grabbed his hand and led him to a corner, let go off his hand and faced
him.
“Listen, mister, you are very forward. I am not used to this – not in this
way - and what do you mean saying you only ever kissed a girl once? I don't
believe you!" She shook her head as she said this, a look of hurt in her
eyes. “You are very handsome, you must know this.”
"I am? Uhm, well...I am? And you are sounding like a jealous girlfriend."
Darth glanced about to see how close anyone else was. "There was this other
girl who gave me a kiss. I had a car, an old one, a bomb, still have the
same one, and she left school to work in a factory. One day she asked me
to pick her up after work. I did not mind. I arrived at the factory. She
said she wanted to come back home with me to talk. Naive me, it was on the
way, my mother was at work and she knew that, so we went home. When inside
she did start to kiss and then took her top off. I had to tell her that wasn't
me. Then, at University, I did have this girlfriend. And yes we used to kiss.
Then she began to make things difficult, like the first girl, so we parted.
I don’t know why I am as I am but I only ever want to have one sexual partner
in my life. I don’t know why, it is just the way I am."
“Sorry, maybe none of my business.” Lana was looking at Darth. She could
see sincerity in his eyes. Somehow she knew, just knew, that he was telling
the truth, that he had never been with a girl in the sexual way. She gulped
and lowered her head. "You don't need to worry. I am a Muslim." She said
without lifting her eyes.
"You said we are not to talk about sex again." Darth smiled.
"Damm you!" She found herself thumping him on the chest with a clenched fist
then pressing closer, looking into his eyes, and being ever so close, "don't
make me laugh, enough now, stop it."
Without thinking she pressed against him and stayed like that. Darth put
his arm around her. She was soft and special to hold. A feeling of heaven
came over him.
“You can make me laugh.” Lana finally pulled back. “I am finding it harder
to stop myself from laughing at some of the things you say. You do have a
sense of humour. Something tells me you will be very rich in this mortgage
field you have chosen.”
“Maybe.” Darth smiled, suddenly missing holding her in that special way.
In this dim romantic light in the corner, it occurred to Darth she may be
much younger than he thought. Something in the way she smiled, something
so...youthful. If she was younger, Darth considered, maybe he should not
admit his age just yet? Perhaps she was only nineteen? Twenty-three and nineteen
did not seem that much of a gap, but even so, he better not risk it. A nineteen
year old may think of a twenty-three year old as an old man. As for thinking
ahead to being rich, that he had not done, his only interest was that car
in twelve months time.
A siren. The second half of the performance was to begin. As entertaining
as the first session. When it was over they walked outside and talked
about how positive the performance had been.
"Where are we eating?" Lana asked.
"Around the corner...uhm...but...uhm." Darth stopped, looking concerned.
"What?"
"Well....I did not know this beforehand...I made the booking...then someone
told me when I mentioned the name of this restaurant that it is a Jewish
cuisine." Darth said.
"Oh? You don't like Jewish? You want Italian or something?"
"No - don’t know what Jewish cuisine is - and how I love that submissive
flow! - a lucky man that can make love to a woman who has that submission
- no, I was worried you might have a problem...being a Muslim...and
that continual conflict between Muslims and Jews over Palestine."
Lana smiled, studying the man. Maybe her virtue was safe with this man –
but suddenly Lana felt that his virtue may not be so safe with her. She was
taking to him more and more and dangerous thoughts crossed her mind. The
way he had put his arm around her, and caressed her gently, during the intermission,
it felt like heaven to be touched in that way.
They started to walk again.
“Shit!” Lana mumbled under her breath. What he had said about making love
now hit her hard and made her shiver in anticipation. She moved closer
and took his hand as they walked.
Her hand was smooth, ever so smooth, and ever so soft!
"I am an Australian Muslim, born in Australia." Lana said. "My parents are
from a Middle Eastern country but they are not...not...anti-Jews. Where were
you born? You have a touch of an accent?"
"Your hand is so smooth. I was born in Russia." Darth was feeling warm, uncertain
how to react to her hand in his. "I was small when we left, have no memory,
except one I think, of Russia. Can I also remind you that you are a Muslim?"
"Eh? I know. Russia?" Lana puzzled. "How come you are a Catholic? Aren't
Russians Orthodox Christians?"
“Uhm...not that I mind, your hand is lovely, and how I loved holding you
during the intermission, and please don’t take it away, but this is..confusing
me now..surely this is hardly...hardly...highly unsual...for Muslims?” Darth
was nervous.
“Yeah, I know, but I wanted to...in case we don’t see each other again. I
like your hand, firm and strong.” Lana touched the side of his cheek with
a finger of her other hand. “Tell me about Russia.”
For a moment they gazed into each others eyes. Thoughts crossed his mind,
if she was seducing him, he could not see himself overcoming the temptation
this time. Surely not? She was a Muslim.
"I was born in Russia." Darth replied. "In the same town as my mother. When
she was born the town belonged to Poland. When I was born it had been taken
over by the Russians. Poles are almost 100% Catholic. If you and I had a
child born in that same town, he or she would not be a Pole or Russian. The
town again has changed hands.”
“That’s funny.” Lana mused and briefly leant her head against his shoulder
as they walked.
Couples came the opposite way, giving them a glance. The two must have looked
lost in love because of how close they walked, how the woman leant her head
against her man, how she held his hand.
At that time of night the city of Sydney was busy and alive with groups,
singles, police sirens often enough or police cars flashing past with blue
lights. Before they walked inside the eating place Darth turned to Lana.
"Listen," he said, "before we go inside...when can we go on another date?"
Lana lowered her eyes. She suppressed a smile. She was hoping he would ask.
She took a deep breath and walked to the wall and leant back, studying the
man. She pointed with her finger to her wedding hand. "Don't you understand.
I am a Muslim. We don't go on dates."
"If you were older, I might consider this most seriously as a proposal of
a marriage." Darth smiled and stepped closer, "and, gees, I might even say
yes...but you are...twenty?"
“You would say yes? We only just met?” Lana smiled then became a touch shy.
“"No, I am just over seventeen.”
Darth took a step back. "Seventeen? Seventeen?” He glanced about hoping no
one heard this. “I thought you were much older! I was trying to compliment
you by saying your age less than what I thought you were. I actually thought
you were about twenty two. Seventeen???"
"Well, I am not!" Lana said. "Still want to date again?"
"All right, I accept." Darth took her hand and whisked her inside the restaurant.
They sat down and ordered their meal.
“I might just want to see your id card.” Darth whispered. “Just in case you
are not even sixteen and if you seduce me I might end up in prison.”
Lana studied this young man. Was he for real? Who did he think he was?
Did he like her that much that even when she had deliberately worn her Islamic
dress, he failed to see it? She bit her lower lip to stop herself laughing,
but could not completely hide the amusement and lowered her head.
A waiter came. They gave their order and waited, getting to know one another.
At one point Darth again asked about another date.
"All right, let me play along." Lana smiled. "Where should we go for our...next
date...I use the word loosely....you are…intriguing me." She stopped herself
saying "confusing me.”
"Given you are only seventeen?" Darth leant. "What time do you have to be
home?"
Lana gave him a hard look. She tossed the white napkin on the table, a napkin
she had carefully placed on her lap. She stood, took his hand, marched him
outside, pushed him against the wall and wrapped her arms around his neck,
giving him a most passionate kiss that lasted a long time. Afterwards she
lapsed her head on his shoulder, suddenly not sure what she had just done.
"Wow...is that what a real woman kisses like?" Darth said.
"Oh, come on, let's go and eat!" She gave him a look, took his hand, and
holding his hand they walked inside.
“Can I remind you that you are a Muslim.” Darth said as they sat down.
“And you a Catholic.” Lana smiled.
“Can I see your id card?” Darth asked.
Lana moved her chair closer, moving her lips ever so close to his, and gave
him a kiss, whispering. “My id card is between my legs. And no man has seen
it. Don’t be rude. I told you how old I am.”
“You don’t sound like a seventeen year old, your maturity more like a thirty
year old. So how come you have finished High School if you are only seventeen?”
“Just the way it works.” Lana moved her chair back and shrugged. “My birth
date was such that I was only just accepted into primary school but then
it went on and on. True, I was the youngest in my class to complete the exams.
I was also top of my class, how about that.”
“You are modest...you did not mention that when we first met. Congratulations.”
Their conversation came easy. After a small bottle of wine they decided to
meet again and go to the zoo together. Darth leant to Lana and told her quietly
not to say she is under 18, under the legal age for being served wine. “See,
the waiter did not hesitate pouring you a glass, you are over 18 to him,
could be those long legs of yours – not to mention you have such...such...such...never
mind.”
Lana moved her chair closer and leant and whispered, “breasts? Yes, rather
proud of them, not excessive but better than average. Soft, firm, shapely.
I also have, I am certain you have noticed, a touch narrow hips, these give
my legs the appearance of being longer than they are - but they are long.
You should see me in a brief skirt.”
“I did notice.” Darth replied quietly - she ever so close to him as she said
this, then she smiled and gave him a warm kiss.
“Let me pay the bill and we will go. I will walk you to the bus stop.” Darth
said. “I now have a wage...well...my first pay is a week away but still I
do have a wage, so I pay.”
“Fair enough.” Lana stood.
Outside Lana put her hand around his upper arm. Darth was feeling light headed
from the wine. Lana had not drunk much, perhaps not even a glass, but he
had drunk because he was nervous and the waiter kept filling his glass. “You
know, I can’t stop myself saying this, but I know I ought to. That girl I
mentioned that exposed her breasts and wanted sex. Her breasts were nice,
sure, but not a temptation – but your breasts, the way you pressed into me,
I don’t know that I could overcome that temptation. I have only had a few
girlfriends but with none have I ever thought about...making love.”
“Well, funny thoughts crossed my mind – and you are a touch drunk.” Lana
smiled. “The waiter kept filling your glass. I tried to make you notice.
I kept focusing on your glass when the waiter came around, but you did not
read my signal.”
They walked along, now hand in hand, chatting. Lana was smiling, laughing,
and mentioning how boys in High School would love to see her during sport’s
days, in her shorts, just to see her legs. The more she explained such things,
the more Darth felt hot under the collar.
“Some boys were so forward, as if they expected...a girl...to...to...tear
of her clothes and jump on top of them.” Lana complained.
“I have a sister. A few years junior.” Darth said. “She can’t find work as
a nurse so she accepted a Saturday morning job in a pharmacy. She told me
one night she was ashamed and shocked because of all these girls, some she
said no more than thirteen, asking for the morning after pill.”
“Morning after pill?”
“Apparently it stops fertilization after sex.” Darth clarified.
“Are you teasing me?” Lana turned to him, put her arms around his neck
and gave him a sensual kiss. “I can do that too! Are we going to be serious
with one another or play games? You like me, I like you. I might be seventeen
but in Islamic circles that is like being an old made you know. Have you
any idea of the horror I might have to go through with my parents, if we
ever became serious? Let’s not pretend – are we going to be serious?”
“All right.” Darth nodded, overpowered by the perfume, by the submissive
flow, by the natural beauty of this young woman – not too mention those perfect
breasts that had pressed into him - a beauty perhaps she hardly understood
about herself.
Perhaps it was the wine but Darth was feeling sensations he had never felt
before. For some reason he never wanted to part from her, and an intense
fear came to him that he might loose her, that she being a Muslim would not
desire to be his girlfriend for long.
As they walked past a park Darth said. “I am confused...back at the theatre
you were telling me off about talking about sex...now you are so...nice...sweet...charming....sensual...sexy...as
if you are going to drag me into the bushes right here and now.”
Lana stopped, mused, bent down a touch and held her stomach to stop herself
laughing. “You do have tabs on yourself! I know you will become a very good
salesman for your bank. Come on, walk me to my bus stop.”
They continued to walk.
“I have no illusions about myself.” Lana would say. “I know I look great
to boys, my breasts and legs are the main attraction. My father had been
asked ten times for my hand in marriage – such is the Muslim tradition. The
first time he asked me, and became insistent, I was rude, and told him to
piss off. He was never insistent after that but always told me when someone
asked for my hand in marriage. My mother, after the last boy that asked and
I said no, told me that officially in Islamic circles I am now an old maid.
I nearly wet myself laughing because she was so serious. You, on the other
hand, have not truly seen these – virtues of mine - you like me for what
I am, and you know, I like you for what you are. Sure, if we, well, go together
too often, boy will I have a headache telling my parents you are not a Muslim,
but I will manage.”
Darth stopped, turned her toward him, embraced her. Under a mellow light
the two stood like lovers of old and lovers of new. They did not kiss this
time – they were ever so happy just holding one another.
Darth waited until the bus arrived and she was safely aboard. While they
waited, she with her hand around his upper arm and ever so close, they kissed
a number of times. Lana was surprised at her desire to do this with any man.
“I have never kissed a man, not in this sense - on the cheek with my uncles.”
Lana admitted. “I also have a secret. I hate young Muslim men. The way they
look at me when they enter my parent’s house, its like they already own me.
The very thought of...you know...with a Muslim...makes me want to puke.”
“Oh.”
“How do you feel about Catholic girls?” Lana smiled.
“Eh, a touch disappointed. Both the girls I mentioned were Catholics.” Darth
explained.
“I see.” Lana suppressed a smile.
“I don’t understand this but, and we only just met, but I may be falling
for you.” Darth said as they saw the bus come to a halt.
“Maybe that works for me.” She gave him a kiss and disappeared inside the
bus. “I will call you and tell you when we can go to the zoo together. I
will try to wear something modern. Bye.”
Darth watched the bus until it turned the corner. She was incredible! He
felt he loved her already. Her body incredible, her smile, her softness,
her perfume, her desire to please as it seemed, wow! And that submissive
Islamic flow was turning his heart in every which way. How he wished he already
had his new car so he could impress her.
Sitting alone in the bus Lana closed her eyes. Her heart was content. She
had found someone special. Someone who also in future is likely to be well
off financially. He had impressed her – with his sense of wit and humour,
with his sense or propriety, with his intelligence, but most of all with
his gentle nature. She could not imagine any Muslim man in the world capable
of being so...loving in a sense...to a woman. Yes! She had made the correct
decision in accepting that date, and now the second one. Wow! What ought
she wear? This time she will make sure he will see her legs and notice the
nice shape of her breasts.
Enchantment