Inn on the Edge (20 page)

I’d stopped naming the color of everything, and I hadn’t
even realized it.

I said as much to Josh.

“Weird,” he said “that’s just weird. You’ve done that
forever, ever since I’ve known you.” He frowned. “You know what else you
haven’t been doing? Having sex…with me.”

It was the next evening. The calling card game and the ghost
town seemed like the distant past, as if they’d happened days and days ago,
last week sometime, not yesterday. I was in the Fine Arts Room putting
finishing touches on my first wall painting, a glorious beach scene, which I’d
been working on since seven o’clock that morning. Josh was visiting me,
checking my progress. All day long I’d been possessed by a fiery need to paint,
paint,
paint
—so he was right. I hadn’t had sex today. Not with him, not
with anyone.

“I’ve been busy,” I said.

It was true. As well as my almost-completed landscape, I’d
painted a series of portrait sketches directly on the adjoining wall. Jonathan,
Vane, Josh, Zora, Rhonda-Lynne and Tim had all given me a few minutes of their
time. I’d also blocked in background colors for a second wall painting and
dashed off an outline for a third. And worked on the composition for a fourth.
The Fine Arts Room was coming together. Mr. Abiba would be so pleased.

“Josh.” I pointed the brush at him. “You haven’t exactly
missed me, though, have you?”

He was lounging on a mat, holding hands with Zenith. He
leaned over and kissed her tenderly. “Ha. Very funny. I suppose you could say
I’m keeping busy too.”

They looked sweet together, my husband and my lover.

“So there you go.” I dipped the bristles in Raw Umber paint.

I’d attracted quite a crowd. Nikki leaned against the far
wall, watching my progress, cradling a cup of Zettia’s tea. Tim stood nearby,
gazing at her as if he’d like to fuck her on one of the mats, right there and
then. Geoffrey had wandered in half an hour before looking for Jonathan, and
stayed to watch me paint. Five people may not seem like much of a crowd, but
when those five people are fondling and kissing one another—and also engaging
in other, more adventurous things—it can be rather distracting. Amusing, but
distracting.

Not that I was complaining. I quite enjoyed the show. But I
was too involved with my work to join the shenanigans. Later, maybe.

I took three steps back from my painting. Squinting, I held
my brush out horizontally, using it to measure and correct the line where
seashore and skyline met. There was a lighthouse off to the far right, just
like the view from the North Tower. In various degrees of completion were
clouds, waves, beach, dune grass and endless sky.

I dipped my brush in a puddle of paint, Flake White mixed
with Cobalt Blue and a touch of Yellow Ochre with the tiniest smidgen of Lamp
Black—there! I could still name my colors! Then I applied it to a small section
of sand dune.

“I can’t believe how fast she works,” said Zenith.

“You should see her in her studio,” said Josh. He kissed her
again. Gave her right breast a quick friendly caress. Tucked a stray hair
behind her ear. “Splattering paint everywhere and making an awful mess. Good
thing she put down those drop cloths before she started.”

I smiled a private little grin, my back to them again. Of
course I was working fast—there was so much to do. Walls and walls and more
walls to fill with my creations! Colors, and more colors! I wished I had that
beautiful Tennenbach brush, the extra-wide one, to help cover the large areas,
but no matter. I’d make do with what I had. The area I’d just painted begged
for more Yellow Ochre, so I put on a thin layer. The addition of Yellow Ochre
demanded a near-by scumbled area of Raw Umber. Which I did. And that change
made it clear that tiny speckles of Cadmium Red would bring out the Yellow
Ochre section I’d started with. One thing always led to another. It never ended.
Making art was a never-ending process where everything depended on everything
else. A process made all the more difficult because I was doing it without a
big brush.

“She’s in the zone,” said Josh, “she probably can’t hear us
talking.”

“I can hear you talking,” I said, not really listening.

“Hey, Angie,” said Zenith, “I like the shape of the beach.
It looks just like the view from the reading room.”

I squeezed a dollop of Ultramarine Blue onto my palette.
“Thanks.”

“There’s a reading room?” said Nikki.

My audience fell silent but for some wet kissy sounds. I
mixed a pea-sized dot of the Ultramarine Blue into a puddle of Cadmium Yellow,
then crouched before the lower left corner of my mural to create a cluster of
waving, flowing dune grass.

“Hey,” said Josh to the group at large, “has anyone noticed
something?”

I turned from my painting, curious.

“I notice lots of things, honey,” said Zenith.

Josh laughed. “Ummm. Well. I’m sure you do.” His heel
thumped the floor,
rat-a-tat-tat.
He shifted position, pulling away from
Zenith, and the words fell from him in a rush. “Like I said, I just noticed
something about myself. It was so cool. Unreal. I could hardly believe it.” He
looked at me. “Angie, yesterday during the calling card game, when me and Nikki
and Vane were fooling around…I had a multiple apex! I swear it! Three apexes,
one right after another, just like you always describe.” His face glowed. “It
was…oh my god, it was amazing. I thought my heart might stop, it was so
intense.”

“Hey, me too!” said Geoffrey. “I had one of those too.”

Tim spoke up. “Is
that
what that was?”

Josh grinned. “Fucking right.”

“I noticed something else too,” said Geoffrey, “How about
recovery time between partners? Totally reduced to—what, five minutes? Just
give me five minutes and I’m good to go again.”

“Less than that,” said Josh.

“Much less,” agreed Tim.

“Three minutes,” said Josh.

“Two,” said Tim, grinning.

“How does he
do
it?” said Josh. “How does Mr. Abiba
make it possible for men to have multiple apexes?”

“Hmm,” said Tim.

“It’s the food,” said Geoffrey slowly.

“No, it’s Zettia’s tea,” said Nikki. “I’m pretty sure it’s
the tea.”

“I think it’s all of it,” said Josh. “The food and the tea
both. You know how they pump it into us.”

I spoke up. “The food must have something to do with it.
Just look at our conduct during meals. Apexing at the breakfast table? Goodness
gracious!” I smiled, knowing I sounded like Mr. Abiba. “What wanton
behavior—and I mean you, Tim!”

Everyone laughed good-naturedly. Geoffrey gave him a playful
punch in the arm.

“Think about it. We’re all screwing everything in sight,”
added Josh, serious, when the room quieted again, “and it doesn’t strike us as
out of the ordinary. We think nothing of it.”

“Mmm,” murmured Nikki, “I think about it all the time.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Josh. He narrowed his eyes
and turned around to better see Nikki where she still lounged against the wall.
“Hey. Nikki. Wanna fuck?”

Everyone laughed. Even me. Because it was true. We were
fucking everything in sight and thinking nothing of it. Nor did we want to.

“Let’s not forget the Tools,” said Geoffrey, changing the
subject. “They’re special.”

“They’re magical,” said Nikki.

“As in real magic?” said Josh, “Ha. That’s ridiculous!”

Nikki snorted. “Fine, fine. But we aren’t imagining it. So
tell me, Josh—what makes the Tools work?”

A pause.

“I have no idea, really,” said Josh, sounding baffled.

Tim tried next. “Maybe our heightened sexual stamina is
because of the ambience of the inn. Or because we’re all newlyweds. I know I
was dying for a nice roll in the hay before we even got here.”

“Me too,” said Nikki, “I wanted a good screwing, that’s for
sure.”

“A good screwing?” A new voice spoke up from the doorway. It
was Logan. “That’s exactly what you got, Nikki, wife of mine! A damn good
screwing. And after that, you got a damn fine roll in the hay.”

“I remember,” said Nikki. “Oh yes. I do.”

Logan came all the way in. Waved at me. “Hey, Running Deer!
Seen any tumbleweeds lately?”

I left off working on long blades of dune grass. “Outlaw!
Did we tell everyone that you won me in a game of dice?” I waved the green-tinted
brush at him. “Yikes. You don’t still own me, do you?”

“I suppose not.”

Geoffrey cleared his throat. “Back to the question. Logan, join
in if you want.” He took a deep breath. “We’re wondering about this place.
What’s going on here? This sex-all-the-time thing? The multiple-apex thing? I
know I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Is it magic, like Nikki said? Or is it
something simple, that anyone could do with enough training? Are we learning
about something that was always there, within us? Are we discovering a
heightened awareness of our bodies? Because that’s what I think.”

“Deep,” said Logan. “That’s some deep shit there.”

I busied myself with mixing a new color, trying to ignore
the rush of heat that ran through me at the sound of Geoffrey’s deep voice. And
Logan’s. And from watching Josh with Zenith.

“Yeah,” agreed Tim, “Heightened awareness. That sounds about
right.”

“Nope. I still think it’s magic,” mumbled Nikki.

“You’re all missing the point!” I said, giving up on any
pretense of painting. “I think our successes are due to constant practice with
our Guides. Our exquisitely talented Guides. Where would we be without them?”

Everyone fell silent, considering what I’d said.

“Maybe you’re right,” said Tim, “but I think it’s more than
that.”

I nodded. “Maybe it is. Zenith? Will you elaborate?”

We all turned to her, expectant.

Zenith took her hair in her hands and held it in a loose
ponytail that fell over her shoulder. She began to speak, slowly, carefully, as
if she were skirting around a delicate issue. “Will you believe I don’t know
much more than you? It’s true. I don’t. The other Guides and me, we’re taught
the correct usage of the Tools, and how to teach them to you. Our job is to
help you get the most from them. And to get the most from within yourselves.
And of course to keep Mr. Abiba happy. Do you see? We’re highly trained in
certain things…”

She took a deep breath.

We waited, spellbound.

“But not in others. We know how to use the Tools, but we
have no idea what they are. Or what makes them work.”

“They’re amazing, though,” said Geoffrey quietly. “And so
are you.”

She nodded, gazing at my mural—at the lighthouse, maybe.
Then she turned to Geoffrey, a smile in her voice. “Thank you, honey. That
means a lot to me. Zora and I, and Vane and Valerian—we’ve each been through
unbelievably intense training.” She fell silent for a moment, leaving the rest
of us to wonder what unbelievably intense sexual training, as taught by Mr. Adi
Abiba, might look like.

I shuddered.

Then she spoke in a much softer tone. “Mr. Abiba makes sure
we Guides have the proper mindset…and the sexual ability…and the emotional
flexibility…to help our clients experience the best sexual intercourse possible.
The absolute, without a doubt, most mind-blowing sex of your lives. And to
share it freely and generously. That’s what he asks of each of us when it comes
down to it. Understand?”

We nodded, entranced. I’m sure every one of us wanted to
make love to her at that moment. Freely and generously.

She let go of her hair, and it sprang out of the ponytail,
thick and shining. “That’s it. He doesn’t tell us how he does any of it. Or how
anything works. Your guess is as good as mine when it comes to the Tools. And
Mr. Abiba? He’s an enigma, even to me.”

“But is it…magic?” Nikki asked. “I really want it to be
magic.”

“There is magic here, yes. But I have no idea if it’s the
kind you’re thinking of, sweetie.”

Nikki took Tim’s hand. “I’m tired of standing. Let’s join
them on the mat?”

Josh and Zenith and Geoffrey made space for them, and then
for Logan too. All six of them—my husband, my friends, my lovers—squeezed
together, their arms and legs intertwined, crowding good-naturedly onto a
single oversized mat. I stared at them, my paint brush frozen in midair, still
mulling over Zenith’s words.

Magic.

Could it be? Zenith hadn’t exactly ruled it out.

Then I forgot about
magic
and
heightened awareness
and
mind-blowing sexual intercourse
and took in the scene developing on
the floor in front of me. A people-pile! Like the cat-piles my four cats used
to make, back when I still had four cats. I watched for a long moment,
transfixed. How delightful, how adorable, the way Josh and the others were
carrying on! I couldn’t drag my eyes away. Why not take a break from my beach
mural and paint this erotic little tableau? I squinted at the people-pile,
already composing in my mind, already selecting colors, already knowing which
brushes I would grab. I could use a bit of amusement.

Besides, Mr. Abiba would love it.

I lugged drop cloth and brushes and paint tubes and palette
to the opposite side of the room. Chose the wall I would paint on. Peered at
the people-pile through my fingers. Stepped four paces to the right to get a
better view. Then, humming, I began to paint.

“Nobody move,” I said a minute later.

But they did. Of course they did. Making my job especially
hard.

They just wouldn’t stay in one place. The people-pile
shifted and writhed and squirmed, a different composition every time I glanced
up. Josh and Geoffrey, kissing. Nikki and Zenith, hands exploring inside each
other’s clothing. Tim and Nikki, dry humping, then throwing off their clothes
and humping for real. Logan, masturbating. Josh, pulling down his pants to
reveal a shapely erection. Josh, fucking Zenith. Then Zenith, her gorgeous ass
in the air, fucking Josh. My goodness, but they were having a fine time.