Page 235 of Everything Under the Sun

“Why do you think it’s so hard?” I asked. “I mean, for the scales to tip in the other direction?”

Thais looked at me, her head laid atop my arm.

THAIS

“Fear,” I answered. “It’s always been about fear. Fear of persecution. Fear of torture. Fear of losing everything one owns. Fear of death.” I paused, letting the nightmarish memory of the mass grave pass through my mind. “Fear is, and always has been, Evil’s most effective tool.”

I broke off then; I had wanted to say more; I had wanted to lay out all of my thoughts and my beliefs for Atticus to hear, but tonight was not the night for that. It was my wedding night! My face broke into a smile then, and I rolled over, and sat upright next to Atticus, looked down at him, my hair loose around my covered shoulders. “Enough of that stuff,” I told him, a suggestive smile at one corner of my mouth. “We just got married, and I want to give you something.”

Atticus’ left eyebrow hitched up.

“Oh?” he asked.

I grinned, and coiled my fingers around the hem of my dress and then I slipped it over my head. I straddled his lap naked, though he was still clothed, and I leaned over him and slipped my tongue into his mouth, and below I moved my body against his, felt him growing harder beneath me.

“Thought you were worried I’d hurt myself,” he reminded me when the kiss broke.

I reached between my legs and broke apart the button on his pants, slid the zipper down, pressed myself against him more firmly.

“I’m going to do most of the work,” I told him. “You just lay back and relax.”

ATTICUS

Relax? Yeah, uh, that’s going to be the last thing I’m able to do, Thais.

My lips parted, and I let out a dizzying breath; my hands were on her thighs, and I couldn’t stop myself from moving against her.

Thais took off my pants and sat atop me again—I thought I would die when I felt myself inside of her; I pushed my head back and shut my eyes and rocked my hips toward her as she rode me.

It wasn’t going to take long, I realized. Not long at all. And Thais kept moving, up and down on me, making my heart pound and other parts of me throb and ache almost to the point of no return.

“No, wait a minute.” My hands fitted on her waist, I stopped her before it was too late. “I want you to come first,” I insisted.

Thais, still moving her hips a little, tilted her head. “But—”

I lifted her from my lap. “Come up here,” I whispered, and gestured for her.

THAIS

Red in the face and with bees in my belly, I moved to sit atop Atticus with his head between my legs.

Our wedding night was as wonderful as any wedding night could have been—no, it was better. We enjoyed little sex—a little was all either of us needed—and a lot of conversation. It had been so long since we could just sit back and enjoy one another, love one another, and just be with one another. And for the rest of the night, with the lively camp of gypsies still going on all around us, we talked about Shreveport and the many things we wanted to accomplish in life, because a future was actually something we could look forward to now. Atticus told me he wanted to help the city with security; he wanted to become a leader of sorts, but not high enough to be everybody’s leader, so he could make decisions and enforce laws. “I want to be able to weed out anyone who doesn’t belong there,” he had told me. “Never again will I work alongside men who think that rape and slavery is acceptable. If women want to have sex for money, that’s their prerogative, but women will never be forced to do anything they don’t want to do. Not with me around.” And he told me all about Evelyn Bouchard. My heart broke for his friend. I wished he could have gotten Evelyn out of Lexington with us.

And then he told me: “People like Peter Whitman, they shouldn’t be afraid to be who they are—it’s so fucked up what my friend went through. I wish I’d known the truth sooner.” And my heart broke that much more, and I remembered watching Peter Whitman die, and I wished I could turn back time and try to save him.

And I told Atticus about how I wanted to always be Atticus’ wife first, not because it was a wife’s duty to put her husband first, but because I loved him and couldn’t possibly see putting him second. And I spoke of how I hoped to teach children, to be a mentor. “I just want to set a good example,” I had told Atticus. “I want to teach people not to be afraid; I want them to understand that the world needs goodness now more than ever. That’s all I want: for people to understand, and not be afraid of doing what is right.”

ATTICUS & (THAIS)

I smiled at her words, her hopes and aspirations, but behind my smile there was still that fear of her potential, eating away at me.

We talked and talked until we couldn’t hold our eyes open anymore. And we woke early the following morning to the sound of the camp packing up and preparing to leave.

The sun was on full display in the serene, cloudless blue sky; it was neither too hot nor too cool, but perfect weather for traveling.

I felt like I’d never smiled as much as I was that morning, as I helped Ossie break down their tent, and helped pack everything into carriages and into the beds of trucks.

“You can ride with us,” Ona told Thais, her dainty arm draped over Thais’ dainty shoulder. “You and Atticus, in the carriage with us.”

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