Oh Dear Lord, three things I pray.

To see thee more clearly.

Love thee more dearly.

Follow thee more nearly.

Day by day.

- Stephen Schwartz (sung by Robin Lamont), Day by Day, from Godspell (1972)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Aika held Hank's right hand on her lap using both of hers. They sat side by side in the nude with their feet in her bathwater.

"Call me by my name," she said, resting her head against his shoulder. "Catch me as I fall. Dream through me for Anna. Dream for Teek and Sehrish.

"Dream for Rio," she spoke, her voice resonant.

That was it. Lightning cracked and blew out the lights. Reality melted in sheets of rain as hailstones tore down trees. Yet the moon still bristled bright, driving icicles into the earth. The world fell apart, nearly splitting it two, before everything strung back together.

Hank clamped his left hand on top of Aika's, pressing all four of them to her thigh. "Wow," he said as these visions passed.

The kitten beside him purred. "Mmmm. You are very wow."

He wrapped her up in a lovers' embrace as Reality changed again. He saw the world from a mountaintop, Heaven holding him high. People appeared as pinpricks, every one a bright spot of light.

There were so very many. "I can see everything," someone like Hank said to someone like Aika, knowing she was nearby.

"Zoom in," someone like Aika said back.

He felt ready to knuckle down walls and fistfight wild beasts, to rescue children from their jaws. His children, God's children, all of them loved, and all of them loving him very much.

"Wow," he said again.

"Hank-himushi! You fill me up! So much, and I'll never forget!"

Sudsy waves swallowed Aika whole, and Hank blinked to regain his senses. He returned to the world he knew, with its gold sunburst hung on a wall. Now, having bathed with Aika in the presence of her glory, Hank had firsthand knowledge of what Milton had so often said.

Reality was an illusion. Frosted flowers on a cake.

When Aika resurfaced from her dive in the tub, she no longer looked pudding soft. She had more meat on her bones. Not a lot, but she was stronger. She floated face up while staring backwards at Hank, her hair trailing across her bosom.

"Do it again," she said, nestling between his legs to rest her head in his lap. "Fill me with your honey. I'll teach you how to reach for miles and revel in faraway people."

Slowly, knowingly, with large hands and long legs, Hank again took control of Aika. He coiled his body around her as she held fast to his knees, to keep herself from drowning. He forced her to face down grizzlies—demons of dark despair and monsters with buzz-saw teeth—evil awful gaping things of anguish and envy and hate.

Her inner voice sounded a warning. "There are things you cannot change. They change you instead. Blacken you like cancer."

Hank disagreed. I can save them all.

He dragged her further down, forcing her through Hell. She clutched as danger loomed.

"Himushi. Leave this alone."

Ignoring her, he dove deeper.

"Let go. You'll hurt yourself."

No. I'm okay.

"You're hurting me!"

He relented, and heeded the plea of his sensai, swinging her next along zip-lines, and shuddering through solid tubes. Like cannonballs chained together, they flew while their bodies embraced.

Aika could no longer be heard. Hank felt her words instead.

Be careful.

They landed in a building. One with only three floors, like Rio's, instead of twelve, like Aika's. A building divided into large flats, instead of small apartments. A building where a woman sat by herself on the floor, empty and broken and crying. She missed friends who were not with her, and a roommate too far away. Most of all, deep down in her soul, she feared they may never return.

This lonely woman, with a little girl heart, acted brave behind big red glasses. She cuddled a black and white mutt of a dog and sometimes spoke to its face, using the comfort it offered to ease her racing mind.

Someone inside Hank who sounded like Aika spoke. You can't help like this.

He realized he wasn't gleaning this woman's thoughts, but was actually inside her, searching as if he were lost. Like a stranger in a foreign land, nothing looked familiar. He sensed what must be her memories, laid out like floors and ceilings, but seeing only one thing, dripping from all sides.

This woman was so sad, and so so so alone. It hurt like hunting knives.

Rio? Why are you sad?

Although he had no voice and Rio couldn't hear him, doors and drawers and windows opened, vomiting their contents. Most of it was dead, or crusted up and rotting. They were things people threw away, but because they were a part of her, they stayed stuck inside.

In a bathtub in the real world, Hank felt Aika tremble as she floated while clutching his knees. But he remained at ease. He found some things in Rio that were still alive, swirling in a storm. Fresh thoughts and new ideas, fed by her brave soul. But sadness slathered everything, crushing who she was.

Happiness? Milton and Leanne thought well of her. But stomp! Milton was long gone. Stomp stomp! Leanne was far away. Faith? Stomp stomp stomp! Rio's faith in God had been crushed so many times, she scarcely knew she had it. Always running, always losing, always fearing Death. Where is faith in that? And hope? Oh God, no! Please not hope! Stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp! Rio never prayed for hope, lest sadness use such folly to beat her to a pulp.

Hope was a vicious memory. It offered no home.

Aika's voice turned toward Hank. Pull away.

Rio had strength and courage, yes, but without happiness they were useless, like broken toys in her mind.

Get out!

Hank had to abandon the sadness he found rooted firm in Rio. Platitudes would not bring comfort. There was no space for beauty. He searched for something brighter, things closer to the surface. Not the fibs she told herself, but her honest, heartfelt thoughts. The things she believed.

They dealt searing pain. You hurt so very much.

I have much against me.

Aika forced Hank further away. Get out of here! Right now!

She placed him on the asphalt surface baked on Rio's mind. Concrete poured on purpose, layer upon layer, to keep out the cruel world. Thoughts raced round in circles here, one chasing the other. They roared by an inch apart, at a thousand klicks an hour. Holding tight to Aika, Hank reached out and grabbed one that looked familiar. Like most thoughts a person thinks constantly, it was to the point.

Where's Milton?

Rio screamed this at herself every minute of every day, and sometimes every second, using it to blame herself for his disappearance. The thought was a callous brute. It tore her apart.

Where is Milton? Where's Milton?

Aika took that thought away and gave Hank another. It hurt just as much, but was prettier.

I want Hank! I want Hank!

Every time Rio screamed this thought at herself, sadness begged forgiveness.

I'm sorry. Please. I'm scared and all alone, and want to be with him.

Hank squeezed Aika between his knees, to make sure she was real. He focused on her as they left Rio's mind, shuddering back through the tubes and zooming up zip-lines. When he could make out the lights illuminating Aika's bathroom, he brought her to her feet, to have her stand before him. He centered her face so the sunburst on the wall shone behind her like a halo. She glowed with an inner radiance as he bent her body towards him, kissing her forehead and temples while he remained seated on the ledge. He then kissed her cheek and lips, each kiss growing more passionate, each one lasting longer.

"Aika, you're so beautiful. What an amazing gift!"

She freed a hand from his grip. Rearing back, she slapped his face.

Hard.

"Hey! What was that for?"

She let him have it again, this one even harder.

"Knock it off!"

She readied herself to deliver a third, but he grabbed her wrists to prevent it.

"I'm making sure you're all right in there," she said, plain and sweet and simple. "You ought not nose around inside peoples' minds. It isn't good for you."

His face twisted in anger. "Oh. And you slapping me is?"

"You can slap me back if you want."

"What?"

Since Hank held Aika by both her wrists, she used her body to gesture towards the closet in her bedroom. "I have a nice outfit in there that goes well with being slapped around."

"What?" he asked again as he let her lower her hands.

"It's okay. I don't mind. I hardly ever get to wear it."

Two full seconds passed before he spoke again.

"What?"

It seemed to be the only word Hank knew. Aika slapped him for it.

"Hank-sama?" she said with little emotion, yet some how filled with love.

Looking cross, he rubbed his cheek. "What?"

"You have to stop saying 'What?' to me, or let me slap you more."

He stood up while still rubbing his face. "No. It's okay. I'm fine."

"Are you sure you don't want to slap me?" she asked, sounding dejected.

"No. I don't."

"Well then, you are welcome," she said, bowing low.

"I have to go."

"You have to go. Rio needs you."

"Rio needs me."

"Go and be with her."

Hank kissed Aika's forehead goodbye, wrapping her fingers tight with his and pressing them between their chests.

"I could kiss you forever," he said.

She freed her hands from his grip and threw herself upon him. "Hai! I could kiss you too!"

After some pleasant snuggling and groping, he pried her off to search for a dry towel. Finding one on the floor that was reasonably so, he stepped on it while leaving the tub.

"Thank you so much, Dreamwatcher," Hank said as he bent to dry his ankles.

She sloshed over and slapped his face.

"What the heck was that one for?"

"Nothing. I just like slapping you."

Hank picked up the soaking wet clothes he'd borrowed from Sehrish and headed out the door while still in the nude. "Stay safe, my little butterfly. I hope to see you again."

"You'd better come see me again!" Aika hollered as he made his escape. "I wanna wear that outfit!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This is THE END of The Book of CHASTITY. The Book of PATIENCE is next. ❤️

The Book of CHASTITY - Chapter ELEVEN

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