Thin Fire by Nanci Little

Author:Nanci Little [Little, Nanci]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Gay & Lesbian, Fiction, Lesbian, General, Lesbians, United States, Gays in the Military, Gay Military Personnel
ISBN: 9780963082244
Google: zmQlAgAACAAJ
Amazon: 1594932735
Publisher: Bella Books
Published: 1993-10-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The normal mortals of Aroostook, Maine’s northernmost county, found July’s heat stifling; Elen, three Texas summers still in her blood, sailed through ninety-degree days looking crisp and cool and irritating everyone around her. With only twelve summer hours at university she felt time-laden; she discovered a marvelous bartender at the Chinese restaurant in town and whiled away her evenings there, sparring with Larry when he had time, reading when he didn’t, taking notes on paper placemats. The manager shook his head over her; she didn’t look right at the table in the corner, spit-shined boots propped on a chair, nose in a book, blonde hair glinting in the dim lights, smoke curling in a blue halo around her head, but she always had a vodka (she had tried to drink scotch, but it made her think of Kare, and Kare hadn’t answered her last two letters) on the table, and Larry confirmed her good-customer status for both food and drink.

Men would watch her, and approach her only to have their hearts jump-started and then stalled again by a look that was sensual and as mercilessly cold as an Aroostook February, and they would creep back to their drinks wondering how a smile and a shake of the head could make them feel as if their balls had been wrapped in barbed wire and packed in shards of ice.

And women watched her, and saw her send the men away with that sultry, dangerous smile, and some of the women approached her; sometimes she lifted her feet from the second chair at her table so the woman could sit, and they would talk, but when her drink was empty she would say nice talking with you, and gather her book and her notes and leave. Larry watched her, too, with a sad and tight-lipped smile.

It was the evening 16 July, while she was engrossed in Mrs. Stevens Hears the Mermaids Singing, that a familiar voice said quietly, “Tell me about Nikki,” and she looked up in precipitous wariness to find Nina Pinero in hat and full-gear pistol belt; absurdly, she remembered it had been 16 July when the trucker from A Company had driven her to the edge of a motel room bed and sodomized her into a weird and unwanted sort of celibacy that had lasted—happy anniversary, Elen—three years tonight.

“Your timing’s exquisite, Dr. Pinero.” She lifted her feet from the second chair. “Three years ago tonight my life was entering the dimension that would allow her. Tell me the nature of three.”

Dr. Pinero grinned. “Now, you know I could go on at great length about the nature of trinity: symbolism and mysticism and metaphysical context. You know if I could be enticed to do that, you wouldn’t have to answer my question.”

Elen smiled, too. “Indeed. Would it be easier, do you think, for me to entice you into the nature of trinity, or for you to entice me into the nature of Nikki? May I buy you a drink while

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