The warm night air smelled or sea salt. So different from the city odors of Pleasant Valley, thought Caroline as she began wondering what Walker was doing now. She did not even know what time zone her man was in. She felt her emotions getting the best of her again and quickly dismissed further unpleasant thoughts of Walker. “So where are you from Moto?” She asked knowing she had to pull herself from this slump.
“Persia is my homeland.”
“You mean Iran?”
“It will always be Persia to me.”
“What’s the object you’re holding?”
Raising the elaborately jeweled glass bottle to Caroline’s eyesight, Moto explained. “It is where I sleep”.
Caroline almost bought the farm as Moto’s answer startled her. Her scooter zig-zigged nearly going off the road, before she found her composure, and felt her blood once again boil. “Listen I know you’re young. You like to play games and shock your elders, but these tall-tales have got to stop. Enough is enough.”
“I understand your anger. You are like most humans, misinformed, non-believers. But I am patient. In time you will come to cherish me as I do you, Master.”
Gritting her pearly whites, Caroline sped into her driveway coming to a screeching halt. “Get off!” she ordered to her dumbfounded guest, who quickly obeyed.
“Is something wrong? I sense hostility.”
“Let’s just make the best of this, since you will be leaving in the morning.” Caroline proceeded toward the front door, with Moto close behind.