Night Masti
He did.“Master Chief Anderson, put me through to the Ambassador.”Ooo, the big guns. Chief Anderson is more than he appears.He shooed us. Wave of the hand, “Shoo.”We shooed to the hall, got accosted a couple of times, explained, had the accoster open the door, back out, red faced and resume his/her original pursuit. We twiddled, sat against the wall, stood against the wall and were bored.If we had known how long this would take we’d have had a nap.The door opened. A hand beckoned. We reentered.There were a ton of things that could have happened, but we never expected what did happen.“I just got off the phone with President Clinton. You have dual citizenship. The bossman at the base has orders to fix your boat. We’re to put you up, feed and water you and treat you like royalty, just kidding about the royal part. I have to get you to Personnel and get you ID’ed.”The longer he talked the farther up my eyebrows went. Cyn’s did the same.“Holy Shit!” just like the duo we are.Off we. I decided that walking would be a better introduction to fitness training. If I wore a hat, say a ski-cap, I could hide my bandages. I was scared to venture outside on my own, though, and decided to persuade Vanessa to come with me at first. After the aerobics, I sat cross-legged on the floor with my hands on my nylon-clad knees, a pose I had been unable to adopt for many years. I played with the hairs which were sticking through my tights, thinking that the old Angela had let her legs go, so must have usually worn long skirts or jeans. I would like to be smarter than her; I would definitely get a neat, shorter haircut, too, but it would have to hide my scars and at present I knew I had a whole band around my head under the bandages which was shaved bald.I went upstairs again to get my pain-killers. My head hurt surprisingly little, considering the whole top had been cut off and then fixed back on with steel staples! My scalp was beginning to itch, which I knew was a good sign it was.
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