17 - A Bazaar Moment

The Hippodrome Hotel wasn’t one of the fanciest spots in the world, but, then again, neither was Istanbul as a whole – in Lilah’s personal opinion.  It was exotic, yes, but not fancy.  Such things didn’t bother her as long as creepy-crawlies didn’t share her bed, though. The simple, clean room with its little refrigerator and small television suited her fine for the most part. 

The lack of Internet connection was the only serious downfall. It meant there would be no online surfing for entertainment while she was holed up in her hotel room.  She would have to rely on her phone for any connectivity to her friends and family.

Which brought to her latest ‘news’ to mind.

In the interest of conserving her phone’s international data plan, she painstakingly typed a single email on the damn touch-screen and sent it to both Angel and Morgan.  She counted herself lucky to only have to backspace two dozen times for the stupid auto-correction.    

July 7, 2011

TO: Morgan_Prince, aussie_angel

FROM: misslilahjane

So, after blowing me off the rest of the time in Dublin, it turns out Tony was on my plane to Istanbul.  He said he was going to call and find out where I was staying to send over my pass and such.  That he'd been having trouble with his phone, and that was why he didn't answer me.  He was lying.  I KNOW he was.  But then...  It was the weirdest thing...  I had pretty much had it and told him he didn't have to do this.  He grinned really big and said "I know" and kissed me.  It was just a little peck, but still...

What the hell am I supposed to make of THAT??

Was it prudent to use her preciously rationed data plan that way?  Probably not, but she hadn’t been able to get Tony’s brief kiss off her mind.  Nor had she been able to make any sense of it.  Maybe the polar-opposite ends of her friend rainbow could shed some light on what the hell was going through Mr. Bongiovi’s mind.

Off the top of her head, she had no idea what time it was in either Oregon or Sydney, so Lilah didn’t waste time expecting an immediate response.  She would have to be content in knowing that her friends would find her in due time, as the clocks around the world ticked to the proper hour and schedules permitted.

Now…  Lilah looked around the compact, yet sparse, room.  The question was what she would do with herself for the remainder of the evening?  Her flight had been a late afternoon arrival and, with the thirty minute trip from the airport, she was looking at six o’clock.  On the downside, her internal clock was still in Dublin, where it was only four o’clock. 

Lilah had to find something to do with herself before she was confined within these four walls for the night.  Knowing there was no point, she still gave her email a quick check before she ventured down to the lobby.

It must have been one of those ‘psychic’ for her.  Morgan’s reply was waiting.

July 7, 2011

TO: misslilahjane

FROM: Morgan_Prince

So...he lied to you about not responding to you, but he kissed you at the airport?  WTF?  Men!

Did it ever occur to you to just ASK him?  I know that seems obvious, but there's a reason he lied about phone trouble...and there's a REALLY JUICY reason he kissed you.  Peck or not - a kiss is a kiss.  I say ask the man!  And sooner rather than later.  You're gonna end up with a lot of misunderstanding and miscommunication by talking about it with me instead of HIM!

Sighing, Lilah regretfully saw that Morgan was in bitch mode. Her bluntness was normally a good thing in Lilah’s world, but this time it didn’t do the trick.  She wasn’t going to track the guy down tonight when he’d quite plainly said he would see her tomorrow.  Although… it might be too hectic to ask about it tomorrow.

Oh, go on and admit it, Lilah Jane.  You don’t want to feel bad again.  As it stands, that kiss is the last contact you have with him, and you’d rather wallow in that than anything else.

Kisses were definitely more interesting to wallow in than rejection, she ruefully self-confessed.  Was it so wrong to want to enjoy it for a little while before she risked the little bit of glow being stolen away?

No.  It wasn’t.

That decision made, she was just about to log out of email, when Angel’s name materialized in her inbox. 

Let’s see if Ms. Postive Motivation can counter-balance Mrs. Stark Reality.

July 7, 2011

TO: misslilahjane

FROM: aussie_angel

Hi hi hi!!

Omgggg!  He kissed you AGAIN?!  Just casual like that?  At the freakin airport??  Squeee!!!  Clearly he likes you!  Of course he likes you, everybody likes you. :). !!!!!!!!!!

But what's with the lying?  How weird.  Don't read too much into it my lovely Lilah.  You know how stupid men are!  At the end of the day most of them are men children anyway. Haha!!  If he was having second thoughts be wouldn't have kissed you!  Eeeeeeee!!  He kissed you!!!!  AGAIN!!

Btw, I think it was fate that the two of you were on the same plane...

Email me soon. I gotta know what happens next!

Muah!

~A~

Fate and “he likes you!” were much more of what Lilah would rather hear right now than “ask the man”.  It left room for a little of bit of fantasy, and she was all about fantasy.

Yep.  Lovely counter-balance.  Thank you, Angel.

All-in-all, nothing had been solved or changed, but she felt better having heard from her friends.

You haven’t heard from all of them.

Sighing, she vowed to call Joanna tonight, after she got back to the hotel.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love her friend.  She did.  Truly.  She would do anything for her, and had on more than one occasion, but the opinionated Joanna had never completely understood Lilah’s overpowering fascination with Bon Jovi.  They were just a band.

Lilah couldn’t argue the statement, but they were so much more to her than that.  They were a part of her youth.  Someone that she grew up with, who she could still keep in touch with and had become as respectable in their maturity as they were ‘hellions’ in their youth.

And, all along, there was this other guy with them.  One I never had any idea would become so important to me.

That’s who was consuming her thoughts, and who Joanna would have no interest in hearing about.  The call was best saved until later.

✧✧✧

The Grand Bazaar was nothing less than a mecca of intimidation for an unassuming woman traveling on her own. 

Supposedly five thousand shops lined sixty-one streets in the largest covered market in Turkey.  Each and every one of them had hawkers and salesmen who were hell-bent on engaging Lilah in some kind of conversation that would part her from a portion of her money. 

After several heart-pounding encounters, she finally got used to the custom and was able to walk past without stopping to succumb to their sales pitches.  That lesson was a little slow coming, though.  She didn’t learn the rules of engagement quickly enough to avoid getting an ‘amazing’ deal on a beautifully crafted belly-dancer outfit. 

The sequined orange bra crisscrossed at the neck and bore long, beaded strands that would shimmy and sway alluringly when worn.  A matching placket banded the waist of the skirt and would sit low on the hips, with more beaded strands dangling to mid-thigh.  Both the skirt and its matching ‘shawl’ were edged with quarter-sized sequins that also fluttered fetchingly with the slightest movement.

It was positively gorgeous, and looking at it made her eyes dance with fascinated wonder.  Too bad she would never wear it.  The skimpy silk and sparkle creation was far too revealing for her conservative taste. 

But… She could always send it to Morgan.  Lilah grinned.  Yeah, Morgan – and her husband – would probably appreciate it. 

Tucking the package under her arm, she noted that the shadows were getting long and that many of the vendors were throwing covers over their wares.  Things were closing down at the Bazaar, and it was time for Lilah to find her way back to the Hippodrome.  

The hotel had only been about half a mile away from where she entered the bazaar, but that was millions of ceramic dishes and vendors ago.  There was nothing familiar that would positively identify where her journey began this evening.

Lilah dug deep for what she considered a good sense of direction, but after all the aggressive salesmen and stall after stall of their wares, everything looked very much alike.  She was annoyed with herself and not one-hundred percent sure which direction would take her back to the hotel.  There were literally dozens of course options in the catacomb of streets and alley-ways.

Choosing what she thought to be the most likely option – or at least the right general direction – Lilah rounded the corner by the Turkish rug store she’d been inside a few moments ago.  She remembered traveling on a long straight stretch before finding this store, not too long after she arrived.  Or so she thought.    

That particular maneuver found her not on a long straightaway to her hotel, but in a nearly-deserted courtyard.  The only occupants that she were three young Turkish men, smoking cigarettes in the shadows and laughing raucously among themselves. 

Before she could unobtrusively back away and re-route herself, the smallest of the men noticed her.  Pushing away from the tree he was leaning against he called, “Hey!  Hey you!  American woman.  You lost?”

She shook her head and turned away without speaking.  In hindsight, that was probably a mistake.

Leather sandals scuffed against the cobblestones of the courtyard, and Lilah lengthened her stride without looking back. 

“Hey!  You ignoring my friend?”

“Arrogant American!”

The breath was stolen from her chest as one of them dug his fingers painfully into her shoulder and spun her around.  It was the first man who had spoken – the smallest of the three.  The two larger men closed her in from behind, blocking any escape path. 

“You did not learn your lesson last time?” he sneered, nicotine stained fingers sickly swiping at the deepest visible scar on Lilah’s neck.  Flinching away from the repulsive touch, she slammed her eyes closed so as not to look at his face.  “This man, he did not teach you well enough.  Maybe I teach you better manners.”

His friends laughed cruelly and she clutched the belly dancing outfit to her chest, hoping the outward pressure would keep her heart encased.  It felt like it was going to break free from ribs that would soon crack with the explosion of oxygen-deprived lungs.

Breathe Lilah Jane.  Just breathe.

“I said …”  A thin, razor-sharp object jabbed at the skin beneath the left-side of her jaw.  Her eyes snapped open with a gasp of pain and she could make out the handle of a knife under her chin.  “Maybe I teach you better manners.” 

You’ve never been afraid to die.  Hell, you never expected to live this long.  Don’t give them the satisfaction of degrading you into a screaming, crying mess.

“Her life in your hands and still she knows no manners,” the biggest man scoffed.  “Teach her!”

She couldn’t control the strangled cry that wrenched free as the knife sliced her from ear to chin in a tight line under her jaw.  Squeezing her eyelids tightly shut, she cursed the tears that leaked from their corners.

It’s only pain.  If this is your fate, then gracefully endure it.  Don’t dignify this with the reaction they want.  If you’re gonna die, your life will start flashin' before your eyes.  Get a head start on the good parts, why don’t ya?   

Tony Bongiovi’s perfectly even smile swept into her mind’s eye and took her away from the men who were growing more annoyed by the second at her complacence.  Memory of his quiet self-assurance soothed her agitation, his dry humor eased her discomfort, and his lips assured her everything would be okay.

Lilah’s body went blissfully numb an instant before the angry man carved a second line in her neck, perpendicular to the first.  This one traveled from ear to collar bone, but carried no pain with it. 

Tony was taking care of that with the dogged memory of his smoky kiss.  She could almost pretend the blood pooling at the collar of her t-shirt was whiskey being drizzled down her neck.  That Tony was going to get drunk from the taste of her skin.

Growing impatient and annoyed with her lack of response, two of the men violently forced Lilah to the ground.  Her teeth jarred, clacking together when her head bounced against the uneven cobblestones.  At least two swift kicks connected with her torso, and a spitting noise was followed by a wet trickle down her cheek. 

But those things didn’t hurt.  Not them, the sharp edge of stone that dug into the side of her skull, or the matching one that pierced her hip bone caused her any pain. 

It might catch up with her later, but from the minute Tony appeared in her thoughts, the whole thing had become nothing more than a bad movie, starring someone else.  Lilah was a mere spectator, feeling nothing more than a detached empathy for the other woman.  Even the unintelligible Turkic cursing and shouting was no more than a muted soundtrack – background noise that didn’t really matter.

She had no more ‘voiced’ that revelation to herself when that background noise – the assailants’ leather sandals and angry swearing – began to gradually fade away, leaving Lilah with full knowledge of why it didn’t matter.

Death is not your fate.  Not today.  You aren’t in snazzle-fratzin' Istanbul, Turkey to become a tourist statistic.