Babayaga

no, little one, they are more than statues. That one there, the tall skinny one”—she pointed to the great monument that sat in the middle—“you know what that is?”
    “An obelisk?” the girl said, feeling like she was being quizzed by one of the nuns from her old school.
    “Bah. Call it what you will, but this is what it is: a great big penis. A big man’s giant cock. His fertility. Men have been building these all over the world, everywhere, for as long as they have walked the earth. They are so enamored with themselves, they cannot help it. They put those cocks up everywhere, like little naughty boys shouting, ‘Look at my penis! Look at my penis!’ And see what they put here all around it outside? See those statues of women encircling that big, massive cock? The men will say they put the women there to symbolize victory or harmony or some such horseshit, but really they put those women around that cock to show how power works. To say men are bigger, to overshadow us.” She looked down at the bewildered girl. “That is how it is wherever you go. So, you know what you are going to want, what you are going to need?”
    “What?” Noelle asked.
    “A way to fight back.” She left the window and headed to the door. “And I gave that to you. You have that now; forever you have it. So, okay, let’s go.”
    Noelle knelt and took the bird in her arms, and then she dutifully followed Elga as the old woman dragged their luggage out the door.
    As they walked down the hallway, Noelle looked at the prints of landscapes and ancient architectural drawings that lined the walls. These, along with the carpeting and chandeliers, had all appeared wondrous to the simple little girl who had checked in only a few days ago. Now they seemed more complex, and as she followed Elga down the hall her brooding mind dug into these images, chasing new interpretations of the world. Coming into the lobby, with its high ceiling, its decorative nymphs and gilded garlands in the upper molding, its gold-framed mirror, its tall glass doors and long curtains, Noelle thought it was really no different from any cathedral or palace or great museum: they were all splendid exaggerations, a way to fool ourselves into believing that we are greater than the ordinary beasts. All the grand rooms were nothing more than visual tricks, like the rigged and mirrored boxes that stage magicians used, attempts to turn all of these small pale creatures into a gathering of the great and mighty gods they so wished to be.
    “Countess? Countess?” A sharp voice interrupted Noelle’s thoughts, and she turned to see the hotel manager stepping quickly out from behind the hotel’s front desk, wearing a pressed and polite smile. “Countess, excuse me for a moment, pardon me, but are you checking out?”
    Without pausing, Elga pointed at the luggage. “I was looking for you,” she said. “Take these and come with me.” Noelle followed as the old woman led them both out through the revolving doors to where a sedan waited at the curb. Elga walked up to the car and knocked at the window. The window rolled down and a dark-haired man stuck his head out.
    “ Que se passe-t-il? ” he asked with a bad American accent.
    Elga waved her thumb toward the manager. “We need to pay him.”
    The American looked at her as if he did not comprehend what she was saying, but she merely stared back at him, clearly happy to wait until she got her way. Finally the man got a checkbook and started to write. Leaning back out, he asked the manager, “How much?”
    The manager mentioned the figure and the American shook his head dismissively but then went back to writing. Noelle looked over at the other man, sitting in the passenger seat; he was small and bald and he wore a cream suit and a white panama hat. He did not seem to be paying attention to the curbside exchange. Finally, the American tore the check loose and handed it to the manager.
    “Thank you, Countess, we hope to see you again.” The manager bowed, stepping back from the car. Elga ignored him and pointed for a hovering bellboy to put the bags in the trunk. Then she climbed into the backseat. Noelle followed.
    “So, where to?” said the American.
    The old woman did not answer at first, she simply stared straight ahead. Noelle looked up into her eyes and it seemed as though Elga’s irises were vibrating ever so slightly. Noelle nudged her gently and the old woman broke out of her silence.
    “I have snake dust