Chapter 9: Wednesday After School

After Calculus class the hallway was peaceful. Other than a few guys who were collecting clothing remnants as souvenirs, there was no sign of the earlier melee.

When I got to the drama shop for Holloway's whippy-dippy support group, Ben was in the hall talking on his PDA.

"Lavi, this is Ben," he was just saying, obviously to Lavender Liu. "Yeah, I know. Long time no see. Three days, right? Hey listen. Could you, Ginger, Heather, and Jasmine meet me by the parking lot doorway at four o'clock?"

Lavi and the others all played volleyball for Outer Midlands High School. At just over six feet, Lavender was the short one. Even as juniors, they'd been instrumental in winning the previous year's state championship.

"OK, thanks. I'll meet you at four o'clock, then," Ben concluded, and then the call dropped.

"Uh, Ben, you're still gonna track down a titanium welder for me, right?" I questioned him.

"Oh sure, I haven't forgotten," Ben assured me. "I only wanted some bodyguards so I could get out of the building safely. That's all. You heard about that catfight between fifth and sixth periods, right?"

"Not only heard about it, but saw it," I replied, then Ben went inside.

Wow. A three-way catfight among Petunia and Yulan (Tai Chi Chuan), Imani, Aaliyah, and Makayla (basketball), and Lavender, Ginger, Heather, and Jasmine (volleyball), all over six feet. I wouldn't mind selling tickets to that one, I thought.

Ginger Zenzaro, as you may recall, is my cousin. Yeah, I know what you're thinking but her mom actually was my real mom's sister. Of course, that was before my mom left me at the age of six, and before Ginger's mom died in a car accident. Anyway, once Ben was out of earshot, I took the precaution of calling her.

"Gin, this is Viv. Hey look, I hope you guys aren't going to monopolize Ben all night. He promised to do some things for me and he's not done yet."

"Oh, no problem," Ginger replied. "There's a team meeting tonight, and we all have to go. So, we won't keep Ben more than a few hours."

"I suppose he'll be spent by then anyway," I conjectured.

"Don't be so sure," Ginger replied, "But I promise we'll be done with him before dinner."

"OK, that's good. Uh, look; you wanna do some driving Saturday?"

"Driving? You mean... ? Really?"

"No, its just a test track and street machines. But it's better than nothing, right?"

"Yeah, when you put it that way. When and where?"

"I'll let you know if it pans out."

"Tell me this isn't a one shot," Ginger encouraged.

"No way to tell, yet," I slid.

"Who else is in?"

"From the old gang? You, me, Olivia, Ursula, Magic, Reb,..."

"OK, then. Bang!" said Ginger.

"Bang!" I replied, then we disconnected.

After the problems on Tuesday, Nurse Nystrom stood at the drama shop door regulating the crowd. She was only admitting students who were naked or who turned in a card stating their problem or question. That kept out enough curiosity-seekers and gossip mongers that we could all sit in a circle again. Adam sat next to me on the right. Dee Muntz dragged out the fake tree stump as usual, and then parked it and her butt on my left. A moment later I felt something slap the small of my back.

"I'm sorry," Dee apologized. "You know, I'm not used to my arm being so long."

"I'm sure you won't let it happen again," I allowed. Then, a moment later, I saw something in the corner of my eye, grabbed it, and yanked.

"Ouch! That hurts!" Dee exclaimed, stomping her spike heel.

"Sorry," I replied, "I thought that wasn't going to happen again."

"Like I said, I'm not used to my arm being so long. Let go, huh? You're still hurting me."

Small wonder. For one thing, I was keeping a very firm grip on her wrist. For another, I was digging my fingernails into it. Dee stomped her spike heel again, then she snarled and bared her teeth. For some reason, she was wearing long pointed ones. Perhaps it was the cafeteria food.

"Good thing I moved my foot, isn't it?" I probed. "I'm surprised you didn't see that."

"You startled me, that's all," she replied. "Now, would you let go of me?"

I did, but only because Nurse Nystrom called the session to order. First she explained the purpose and ground rules, and then she asked anyone with a problem or question to speak up.

"Uh, hi. My name is Travis O'Grady and I'm Naked In School," began a solid-looking guy with dark red hair.

"Hello, Travis," everyone replied. It's funny how every group did that, even though no one ever told them to.

"Well, my problem happens on the school bus. I mean, I usually wear clothes, but being naked in class or whatever doesn't bother me that much. People see me naked anyway, like in gym, or in the washroom, or outside on warm day or whatever. But I hate it when I'm naked on the bus and someone naked sits next to me."

"Is it because of the touching?" Nadia asked.

"Well, yeah. I mean, the seats are narrow and the bus is crowded. You get pushed together, and the bus jostles you around. You can't help but touch them and rub against them."

"Can't you just sit next to someone wearing clothes?" Teah wondered.

"Well, you know how it is," Travis explained. "The fully-clothed kids usually sit together, and they push away anyone who isn't dressed like them. And sitting next to someone who's topless, bottomless, or less doesn't really help."

"Is it boys or girls you don't like sitting with?" asked Dan.

"Rubbing against a naked guy is freaky. I don't like that at all," stated Travis. "But sitting next to a naked girl is freaky, too. I never know how to act. Will she get pissed if I look at her? Will she get pissed if I ignore her? Should I talk to her? What should I say? And yet, there we are, completely naked and touching each other."

"Is there anyone who's on the bus, who's naked this week, and who you already know?" Dan asked.

"There's my friend Rueben and his girlfriend Shanice, but they always sit with each other" Travis explained.

"Well, I think you should pick someone else and get to know her," Dan suggested.

"How?" Travis wondered.

"Well, you could call her this evening and ask if you could talk to her on the bus tomorrow. Or, if she gets on the bus first, ask if it's all right to take the seat next to her. Or if you get on first, save a seat for her and then ask her to take it. Once you know each other, I think it'll be easier for both," Dan proposed.

"OK, thanks," said Travis, then he sat down.

"My name is Retta Kodowsky and I'm in The Program this week," stated a tall, well-built blonde wearing only a pair of high heels.

"Hi, Retta," everyone replied.

"My problem is with my boyfriend," she explained. "This week he's seeing me naked for the first time, and he acts like it's nothing."

"What did you expect?" asked Crystal.

"Well, I thought he would look at me differently, or try to feel me up, or have more sex or something," Retta explained. "But he only looks at my feet and shoes, the same as before. This is hard, you know, being naked, but I thought at least I'd score some points with my boyfriend. But nothing's happening. Am I ugly or something?"

"No, I don't think you're ugly," Adam remarked. I kicked him gently. Dee slapped me harder than before, then I caught her arm, she pulled back, I dug in my fingernails, and she stomped the floor. The sound echoed through the room. Luckily I'd moved my foot.

"I think your boyfriend just likes feet," Crystal suggested. "Some guys are like that. I think they used to call it a foot fetish. Nowadays, they call it podiacly inclined. Does he kiss your feet a lot? Does he ever want you to jerk him off with your toes?"

"Why, yes, he does. He says it's the only way he can cum. I used to hate it, but then he learned how to toe-fuck me. He wears latex socks so his toenails don't scratch me."

"Well, if you like the guy otherwise, it all seems pretty harmless," Crystal advised.

"Don't spend a lot of money on outfits," Nadia added.

"I'm Rolf -- Rolf Incera," began a blonde guy with an average build and a huge cock. "I'm in The Program this week," he continued, as if everyone couldn't see that.

"Hi, Rolf," we all answered.

"I just don't think it's fair that naked girls look better than naked guys," Rolf explained.

"I'm not sure that's true," Nadia claimed. "Maybe you just like looking at girls more."

"No, when an artist or a poet wants to convey beauty, they always use a woman," Rolf countered.

"Maybe the artists or poets were guys," Nadia suggested. "And don't forget Adonis."

"No, female artists and poets also use women as icons of beauty. As for Adonis, he was the son of Venus and Cupid, or of Aphrodite and Eros, depending on which version you like. And Aphrodite was the goddess of love, beauty and sexual rapture. As for Eros, he was the god of love and sexual desire, but not of beauty."

"The Celts had a god of beauty named Angus Og," volunteered Travis O'Grady, the bus rider, who was still, uh, hanging around.

A long silent pause ensued, but then Nadia recovered. "That's gotta be an Irish thing, right?" she asked Travis. Then, before he could answer, she continued, "Rolf, let's say you're right. So what?"

"Well, maybe guys shouldn't have to be in The Program, or do it less, or not do it the same weeks as girls."

"They used to do that, but the courts ruled against it," Dan explained. "It's a sexual equality issue. Everyone gets the same rules."

"You could get skinnier and smoother if you want. Just change your injection," Teah suggested.

"You could let your hair grow out. If you could stand the people staring at you, you could even grow tits," I suggested. Then Dee slapped me again, I grabbed her arm again and dug in my fingernails, Dee tried to stomp me, but I'd moved my foot. Ho hum. But then, I dragged my toenail across the back of Dee's ankle, she screeched, and everybody else went silent. Nystrom glared at us.

"Rolf, regardless of how you define beauty, I'm sure at least some girls would rather look at you than at other girls. Have you considered that?" Teah eventually asked.

"How would I know which girls?" Rolf replied.

"Well, if you spot them lookin' at you, that would be a clue," I suggested with Dee's arm still firmly in hand. Dee was surprisingly powerful but so was I.

"Hi, I'm Ananda Muss and I'm in The Program this week," an average-looking girl began.

"That's all right. You don't have to give your name if you don't want to," Nadia told her.

"No, I'm Ananda Muss."

"That's all right," Nadia stated again.

"No, I'm... Never mind. I've been walking around school naked for three days now and I don't think anyone even notices me."

"So, you have a feeling of being nondescript?" Teah asked.

"No, I'm Ananda Muss."

"But you feel nondescript?" Teah repeated.

"I don't even know this Skrippe girl. And if even if I did, I can't imagine feeling her up. I don't like girls that way."

"Well, how do you feel around the school? Do you find it highly embarrassing?" asked Crystal.

"I don't know her either. And if I did, I certainly wouldn't feel her up."

"Who?" Crystal asked.

"Ananda Skuel."

"Well, how does your family dress around the house?" Crystal prompted.

"We don't know any Ananda Howes. And if we did, we certainly wouldn't dress her. She would dress herself, if she wanted to."

"Have you asked anyone to pay attention to you?" Nadia suggested.

"I don't know Annie Won either. Plus, like I keep telling you, I'm not into girls."

"How about a new accessory or a new look?" Crystal proposed.

"I don't know them, either."

"Who?" Crystal continued.

"Andrew Zachary or Ngu Luk."

"Look, Ananda, I think you should call Eisenblush Salon and get yourself a new look. Ask for Sandra Samuels. She's a cosmetologist there," said Nadia.

"I still don't know this Ngu Luk. And why should I care who Sam resembles? I don't know anybody named Sam."

"Can someone give this girl a ride to Eisenblush Salon?" Dan asked the group.

"I will," replied a decent-looking guy sitting a few places down from her. As the two of them left, the anonymous girl grabbed his butt and he grabbed hers. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" she said as the two of them passed out of sight.

"Who was that?" Adam asked me quietly.

"I don't know, but I think he's hard of hearing. I saw him kill the mike on his PDA." I replied.

The next girl was fairly normal-looking if you discount the black Mohawk, the pasty-white skin, the blood red lips, and the black eye makeup. She was wearing black combat boots, one ripped fishnet stocking, a black bra, and a length of black cloth wrapped around her waist and fastened with a safety pin. Her ears were so loaded with earrings that the nose ring seemed anti-climactic. She was average height but very thin, almost waiflike. Even after she had the floor and everyone was listening, she just looked down and remained silent.

"Everyone, this is Joy Inkarnette," Crystal explained. "She's a bit shy sometimes. How's it going, Joy?"

"Medium dull," the new creature replied blandly.

Joy returned to silence so Teah asked, "Have you known Crystal long?"

"No, I only know Crystal Cleary," Joy replied vacantly.

"How long have you known Crystal? Crystal Cleary," Teah clarified.

"Like, in years?" Joy asked.

"Yes, how many years ago did you first meet Crystal?"

"Uh, I think we used to be lizards or somethin' in, like, India. It was couple a thousand years ago."

"How long have you known Crystal in this life?" I tried. Really, I did.

"Oh, we used to be little girls. But we just found each other a couple a years ago."

"I help her with her outfits," Crystal explained.

"Don't worry. I won't tell anybody," I reassured Crystal, whose response was a derogatory gesture. Joy meshed her fingers in a strange way and then stared at them.

"Do you have a question or a problem, Joy?" Crystal asked.

"Oh, yeah, I do. It's for Dee. Uh, yesterday, in like, homeroom you said you had trouble being in cars, busses, and planes. Is that, like, because your mane gets in the way?"

"Yes, that's how it is," Dee answered.

"Oh," said Joy, looking disappointed. Then, however, she seemed to have another thought. "So, how do you get around?"

"I have a cycle," Dee explained, at which Joy brightened up. "It's a Trans-Cal Moto-Master 7000 Turbo, modified so my hair can't get caught in the wheel spokes or the drive chain or anything. First I sit down, then I coil my hair inside a specially-padded tour pak and then I close it."

Joy's expression drooped again. "Oh, I thought maybe... Well, OK, thanks," she said, and then she morosely sat down.

"Where'd you get a bike like that?" Nadia asked Dee. Even then, I think she knew something was going on with Trans-Cal.

"Averill Overdale's Dirt & Trail," Dee replied. Fortunately, it was almost four o'clock and time for me to leave for Bogswamp's. Otherwise, she probably would've tried to stomp my foot again. I knew something was fishy with that girl, or whatever she was.

"You're not yourself today, are you?" Joy absently asked Dee, but Dee didn't answer.

Technically, I left the school parking lot at two to four and arrived got to Bogswamp's at two after. It should have been a ten minute drive but I took a few, uh, shortcuts.

Courtney Bomzer was waiting outside with a stack of contract packages. In no time at all she flagged me down, jumped into the passenger seat, and buckled her seat belt. Courtney shouted the first address just as I reached the exit to the main road.

When we got to the first house a guy wearing a long-sleeve button-down shirt, dress pants, and wing-tips had us wait outside because his wife needed time to change out of her housecoat. Then, five minutes later, his wife appeared wearing a short lacy black nightgown and let us in. Fortunately, the signing itself went pretty fast.

When we got to the second house the door was open. We rang the bell anyway, and a voice told us to come in. A lesbian porno flick was running on the wall screen and three girls were sprawled out watching it and masturbating to beat hell. Two more were eating each other on the couch. A small pile of blouses and panties was in the corner.

"Just spread out anywhere," the girl closest to us mumbled from between her partner's thighs.

"No, we're from Bogswamp Realty and we have a few papers your parents need to sign," Courtney explained.

"Mom, the chicks from the real estate office are here," the same girl yelled into her partner's cunt.

A minute later, three adult women emerged from the back of the house. One was heavily boned, short haired, and dressed in a flannel shirt. The second was a blonde with face, tits, and legs to die for, wearing a sheer nightgown and a boa. The third had black hair in a pony tail and bangs, black and silver eye makeup, blood-red lipstick, and a leather corset.

The house didn't seem to have a dining table; instead, the dining area contained a collection of examining tables, ottomans, and supply cabinets. I was afraid for a moment we were going there anyway, but instead the women led us into a family room furnished with a full-wall TV, a stereo, lots of mirrors, and a twelve foot circular bed.

The butch and the dominatrix sat side by side on the bed, cross-legged, with the femme sprawled across both their laps. Courtney and I sat a few feet apart, also cross-legged, facing the three women. Some girls can sit on their heels quite a while but when I try it, my foot goes to sleep.

"You girls can get comfortable if you like," encouraged the femme.

"Thanks, but we need to make several more stops today," Courtney replied smoothly. "We just need your signatures on these forms. The first set accepts the buyer's offer for your existing house, the second set finalizes your offer for the new house, and the third set covers the alterations you wanted in the new house."

"Ellen, Melissa, and Rosie, are signing similar papers, right?" asked the butch.

"Ah, let me check," Courtney offered. Then she pulled up some records on her PDA. "Yes, I see it now," Courtney confirmed. "They're also selling their house and buying a fifty percent share of the new one. Same terms, same alterations."

"We're engaged," explained the femme.

"The three of you?" I asked.

"Yes, to the three of them. We're going to be a sextet. Isn't that yummy?" the femme giggled.

The dominatrix made a fuss about us telling her where to sign, but eventually the paperwork was done and we headed back to the jeep. On our way out, we noticed that the original living room group had moved into the examining room, and that six or seven new girls were rolling around the living room floor.

"That dominatrix," I remarked once we got back to the jeep. "Didn't one of those papers show her maiden name as Bomzer?"

"Yeah, she was my mom's first wife," Courtney confirmed. "They separated and remarried when I was little, but they both kept the name Bomzer."

"So, are you..." I began.

"No, not at all. Most children of gay or lesbian parents are straight, you know."

"Yeah, I guess I did. That's gotta be confusing, though. Did you ever think that being lesbian was normal, and that liking guys was perverted?"

"Just drop it, OK?" Courtney urged, so I did.

The next contract was for two young professionals just moving into town: Nelson and Loraine Vogel. We were supposed to meet them at their hotel, but no one matching their description seemed to be in the lobby. I asked the desk clerk to call their room but there was no answer.

Fortunately, their PDA address appeared on the top page of their paperwork. Loraine apologized for running late and promised both she and Nelson would there in about ten minutes. To kill the time, Courtney and I took a walk around the hotel.

About eighteen or twenty people were decked around the outdoor pool. About a third wore conventional, conservative swimsuits. Another third were naked. The rest were wearing topless or bottomless suits, thongs, ultra-strings, or whatever. The lifeguards and cabana girls, of course, were naked.

A Japanese family was hauling their luggage into their room. The dad and two boys, about eight and twelve, were naked. The mom and a fourteen-year-old daughter wore conservative knee-length dresses.

A pair of new twins were pissing in the bushes. Their mom was pissing on the lawn. All three had matching sports bras.

A couple of businessmen were giving each other head outside the sauna.

A waitress took off her clothes, tossed them in her car, and reported for work.

A mother reminded her children to close the room door and curtains before opening their suitcases. She didn't want the other guests to see the family's underwear.

A middle-aged couple were getting a rub-down in the day spa. The husband's towel was hanging over his ankle. The woman seemed to have lost hers completely.

Three families had crowded into the outdoor shower and showed no sign of leaving. The soap sprayers seemed particularly popular.

In the gift shop, a mother and daughter argued about the necessity of using the changing room to try on a t-shirt.

In the lobby, Loraine Vogel was waiting for us and looking a little peeved. I guess she got there in nine minutes rather than ten. The three of us had to wait another two minutes for Nelson, though.

Nelson arrived wearing a waist-length suit coat, matching briefs, and wing-tip sandals. Lorain was wearing a gray pinstriped business bikini and mesh boots. Signing all the papers took only a few minutes, then Nelson and Lorain asked us if they were underdressed or overdressed compared to other lawyers in town. I told them what they had on was fine, as if I knew. As if anybody knew.

The last call was at a strip mall. A naked couple in their thirties was taking the keys for a new sportswear store. I wished them the best of luck.

"Phew! I'm glad that's over with," Courtney exclaimed after we pulled away from the house.

"Yeah, me too," I empathized. "Hey, look; I haven't eaten anything since breakfast. Do you mind if I stop for something on the way back?"

"No, that's fine. In fact, I'm ready for some dinner myself. What were you thinking of?"

"Do you like Chinese?" I asked smoothly.

"Yeah, every so often," Courtney replied.

"Call Lai King's Ping Pong Café and Truck Stop," I told my PDA.

"Lai King's carry out or delivery?" inquired a crackly voice. The video showed a skinny oriental kid wearing a Lai King t-shirt and a paper hat.

"Let me speak to Bubba," I told the kid.

"Oh, Vivian, I so glad to see you!" said Bubba's voice a moment later. "I think something happen to you! You make me worry!"

"I hate to be a pest," I explained.

"Oh, you never a pest!" Bubba assured me. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"I already owe you too many favors, Bubba, but could you make up one special for me and my friend?"

"Oh sure, that easy," Bubba replied. "You gonna eat here? I save your favorite place, you know."

"Sorry, Bubba, I'm on the job tonight and I'm headed back to the office. It'll have to be take-out."

"Oh, no problem! No problem! How soon you want that?" Bubba asked.

"I can be there in ten or fifteen minutes," I estimated, "I'm drivin' a Jeep these days."

"OK, OK, I watch for you. Is your friend with you now?"

"Yes, she is," I replied.

"OK, bye-bye then," said Bubba.

"Bye-bye" I replied with a chuckle. Then I heard Bubba order, "Phat Wong! One double special for Vivian!" and the connection dropped.

For a while Courtney was impressed that I knew a restaurant owner. Of course, her impression changed when we got to the place. It was just a door and two windows facing a dark alley that ran behind a large brick building. The words Lai King were hand-lettered on the door and a neon sign in one window proclaimed Ping Pong. The patrons, such as they were, parked in a vacant lot on the other side of the alley.

The minute we pulled up, four guys wearing bamboo hats and silk embroidered pajamas started filling the back of the jeep with bags and boxes. After about five minutes they ran out of stuff and Bubba stepped outside.

"Vivian, I miss you so much," he said warmly. So warmly, in fact, that I got out of the jeep and hugged him.

"Oh, Vivian, must be careful!" Bubba cautioned after a moment. "My wife see us, she get very jealous! But don't be stranger, OK?"

"OK. There might be somethin' goin' on real soon," I hinted.

"Yes? Bang Bang?" Bubba asked quietly.

"Sssh," I cautioned him. "It's not definite."

"You let me know, yes?" Bubba pleaded.

"Yes, definitely. How could it be the same without Bubba? You know that, right?" I reassured him.

"OK, uh, bye-bye, then," Bubba said in full voice after glancing at Courtney.

"I'll be in touch," I promised, then I waved and we were off.

"This food smells fantastic!" Courtney exclaimed. "It's hard to believe it came from that hole in the wall. Did you pay him, by the way? I was watching to see what this cost."

"Bubba and I have an arrangement," was all I could say.

When we got to the office Courtney and I started carrying food into the break room. Along the way we passed Cynthia, who was masturbating while handling a phone call in her office.

It took several more trips, but we finally got all the food into the break room. I was just unpacking the appetizers when Cynthia glided in.

"Oh, that smells heavenly!" Cynthia exclaimed. "Where did you get this food?"

"Bubba's," I replied.

"Also known as Lai King's Ping Pong Café and Truck Stop," Courtney added. "Can you believe this?"

"Let me guess; this Bubba is another old friend of yours?" Cynthia asked.

"Yeah, sort of," I admitted.

"Well, I have to rinse off," Cynthia stated matter-of-factly. "I'll be back in a few minutes. May I join you?"

"Sure, if there's anything left," I replied, gazing over the enormous mountain of food.

"What are these?" Courtney asked after opening the first box.

"Lemme see," I replied, peering in. "Oh yeah! These are chicken and herb potstickers with mint-chili sauce."

"Mint and chili?" Courtney questioned.

"Yeah, I know, but they're great," I explained. "To make the filling you start with ground chicken and mix in eggs and a bunch of chopped vegetables: spinach, green onions, cilantro, ginger, cloves, and lemon peel. You season it with salt, pepper, soy sauce, and Chinese chili-garlic sauce. When all that's mixed up, it forms the filling.

"Next you put the filling in egg roll wrappers and brown 'em in sesame oil. Then, to cook 'em all the way through, you heat 'em in a blend of Chinese plum sauce, cooking sherry, and water. Try one. They're great."

"What are these?" Courtney asked, looking into another box.

"Second appetizer: Woo Tul Gow," I explained. "Taro Root Cake. Thick slices of taro cake filled with fried scallops, mushrooms, shrimp, Chinese bacon, and creamy taro."

"If those are the appetizers, what's all the rest of this stuff?"

"Uh, let's see. This is Asian noodle, mushroom, and cabbage salad."

"What's the main course?" asked Cynthia, who had just returned and was still toweling herself off.

"It's probably in these boxes," I replied, opening them one by one. "Oh yeah, I'd say Bubba took care of us pretty well. This first one is steamed chicken with black mushrooms and bok choy. Oh yummy! This is red-cooked pork with frizzled ginger. This next one is sesame beef and asparagus stir-fry. Oh wow, steamed sea bass, Cantonese style! And my favorite: shrimp and mushrooms in spicy black bean oyster sauce.

"OK, these two are rice: one white and one wild," I continued. "Then we have two side dishes: stir-fried sugar snap peas with Chinese sausage and Szechwan shiitake risotto."

"Risotto sounds Italian," Courtney remarked.

"Only the rice," I explained. "It's actually shiitake mushrooms, Szechwan peppercorns, shallots, and Arborio rice cooked in beef broth, butter, soy sauce, and a dash of dry white wine.

"Then what are these other boxes?" Cynthia wondered aloud.

"Probably dessert," I mused. "Yup. Number one is banana-walnut spring rolls with caramel-rum sauce. Number two is five-spice roasted pears with sesame seeds. And last but not least, lychee coconut sorbet with mango and lime."

"That last crate weighed a ton. What's in there?" Courtney asked.

"Oh, good grief. It's five pots of tea. This one," I explained, smelling the first," is Longjing, which means Dragon Well. It's a green tea that comes from the West Lake region in Hangzhou. See, Bubba marked it G for green.