“Can she fly?” I shout. My voice goes a little too high by the end of my question.
Nowadays, aircraft are almost all gone. We don’t build them anymore, and once they crash, they’re gone. Fuel is a problem too.
Griffin scoffs. “No. Those are just her solar panels. Like this, she can recharge while we fill up the tanks.”
Now that he’s talked about it, I notice a large pipe that goes from theBeetleto the water.
“Where on earth did you get such an invention?” I say in awe. “And how does she turn invisible?” I’ve never heard of such technology.
I’ve never seen the likes of her. Not even in imaginative rumors. This is better than any science fiction movie from the old days. Even theStar Warssaga didn’t have such cool machines. From afar, she must look like an old god roaming the land.
Griffin stays silent, so I guess he’s not planning on spilling the beans. Fair enough. I get it.
Swimming around for a little while longer, my fingers and toes start to hurt from the cold. I get out of the water right as Griffin secures the pipe on theBeetle’s underbelly.
He waits for me by the main hatch, and I have to walk close to him to enter theBeetle. I swear I felt the heat of his body as I jumped in. Or maybe it’s just that I’m freezing.
“I hope you don’t consider your little dip in the lake a bath,” says Beet as I reach the main room. “You still stink. You’ll find the bathroom at the end of the passageway on your right. Hurry, you’re dripping water all over my floor.”
“Thank you.” I reach for my clothes and shoes.
“Leave them!” she scolds me. “They’re going in the trash. Griffin will find you some clean clothes.”
“Am I?” says Griffin as he closes the door.
“Yes,” she says. “Now go, Helios! There are towels in one of the drawers in the bathroom.”
I wonder briefly who’s in charge here.
I follow the narrow passageway that goes down from the main room and open a heavy hatch, gasping as I take in what’s on the other side. There is a sunken tub made of metal, with two ornate taps. The ground is textured to avoid slipping. There are shelves on the walls that close with a magnet, probably to avoid any accident when theBeetleis moving. I open a few to check what’s inside, and find all kinds of soaps, hair products, towels, and toothbrushes.
“Can I borrow a toothbrush?” I ask, full of hope.
The slavers threw mine away with my bags when I got captured. I haven’t brushed my teeth for more than a week. I hate it.
“Borrow?” says Beet, sounding disgusted. “You don’tborrowit. Once you put it in your mouth, you keep it! Ugh, you humans and hygiene.”
I laugh and grab one. “Thank you kindly.”
While the tub fills with wonderfully hot water, I go to the sink to brush my teeth. There is a round mirror on the wall. I take a quick inventory of my body. I’ve lost some weight in the past week, unsurprisingly. My fair skin is bruised around my wrists and ankles, where I was tied for a few days. Both my arms are still red from the sunburn and the blisters have popped during my escape. My blonde hair looks darker than usual, almost brown with dirt. I guessBeetis right, I need a good wash. My green eyes are heavy with dark circles. I brush my teeth twice, then take my boxer briefs off and throw them in a corner of the room. I spare a thought for the fact that Beet might be spying on me and sharing the feed with Griffin, but I don’t care. And if watching me naked convinces him to keep me around a little longer, all the better. I’m going to enjoy life on theBeetleas long as I can.
I choose bottles of shampoo and soap, then slide into the bath. The edges of the tub are curved in to stop water from splashing out with theBeetle’s gentle motion. I moan with pure pleasure as I enter the tub. I can’t remember the last time that I washed with hot water. It’s the kind of wasteful endeavor that I don’t usually partake in. Does it feel good? Yes, incredibly so. Is it necessary for my survival? No.
But right now, I’m not in any danger that I know of, and my hosts want me clean. So I’ll stay as long as I want in this bath and enjoy every minute of it.
I wash my hair and my body twice, too, then drop my head on the edge of the bathtub and let my body float. All my muscles relax in the warm water, and I fall asleep.
“Hey, you’re going to drown,” says Beet.
I jolt awake. I had slid in the bath, and the water reached my nose.
“Sorry,” I say.
“Not that I care whether you drown or not, but it would be a shame after all the products you used to get yourself clean.”
I chuckle. “Thanks for not letting me waste shampoo on a dead body.”
“You’re welcome. Griffin dropped some clothes for you in front of the hatch.”
