Lemurian City of Ladies

I remembered my previous encounter with Dame Washalot. I remembered it all too well. My skin was nearly scrubbed off by the good Dame, underneath the Faraway Tree…why, that must be a year or more ago. I supposed I could do with another scrubbing by now, and this one was in a bathhouse, not in the open air of the great outdoors. I thought a little more and told myself that there might be a hot tub to soak in, and maybe even a massage….

I stopped staring at the entry way with the large sign, “Dame Washalot’s Bath House – We Get You REALLY Clean” and opened the door in the archway. A cloud of scented steam billowed out and I stepped inside.

“She Wolf!” a hearty voice boomed at me. My glasses had fogged up instantly and I couldn’t see who was calling me. I took them off to polish them, but still couldn’t see through the steam. A hand slapped me on the shoulder and I nearly fell over. As I caught myself, the same voice boomed in my ear, “I’m glad to see you here. I didn’t know if I scared you off last time – that first scrub is always a bit rough. Come on back and have a bit of a soak before we get started with your bath!”

Ah, so it was the Dame herself who was greeting me! I allowed myself to be tugged along into a back room where a huge hot tub with scented steam rising from it was waiting. A few minutes later, I was soaking in water up to my neck and all the kinks were melting out of my body.

Dame Washalot scurried out and let me soak until the water started to feel cool. Soft music played in the background and I could swear that I heard the voices of some of my friends in other rooms nearby. Finally, the Dame came back in and said, “All right then, let’s get this bath going. You should be nice and loosened up by now…”

I found myself in another, smaller, tub nearby and the Dame was wielding her scrubbing-brush on me. It wasn’t quite as bad as I remembered, but oh my, it did still hurt. “Now, there’s some more of those silly notions you hold about yourself – we’ll get those off in a jiffy …” She scrubbed at me very, very vigorously. I was sure that she was taking my skin and muscles right off my bones. Suds flew and bubbles drifted towards the ceiling. I could swear that some of the bubbles had words or tiny scenes in them, but it was really hard to see with soap in my eyes.

Finally, the torture, er, bath, ended, and Dame Washalot said, “You weren’t nearly as bad this time! Now then, you just dry off a bit and someone will be in to give you a massage – just the ticket after a good scrubbing!” She dumped a bucket of fresh water over me. It was cold. Very cold. I yelped and she just shook her head at me. “Get moving, now!” she said as she strode out of the room.

I did as she told me – frankly, I couldn’t imagine anyone NOT doing what she told them to – and was waiting on the table for the massage when the door crashed open and I heard lumbering footsteps coming my way. Had the Dame been raiding one of my fairy tales for employees? The footsteps sounded like they belonged to an ogre at the very least!

I admit it. I was afraid to look. I huddled down, with my face pressed into the massage table, and tried to prepare myself for the worst. I was certainly quite surprised when the massage started out nice and gentle and slow. I relaxed, breathed deeply, and began to enjoy it.

Of course it didn’t last. Like the nice hot soak before the dreadful scrubbing and cold water, the gentle massage at the beginning was apparently designed to lure me in and lead me along before real massage started.

I was pounded, pummeled, and my muscles jellied. Every tight spot in my body was identified, and any muscle foolish enough to try and fight back was quickly and completely subdued. By the time a drizzle of warm scented oil was being rubbed into my skin (or rubbed into the muscles under my skin, from the force being used), I was utterly limp. When the thudding footsteps retreated and the door slammed shut, all I could do was lie there. Finally, I eased into a sitting position and gazed around the room with a glassy-eyed stare. I was climbing into my limp, damp clothing when Dame Washalot came back into the room.

“Oh good, you’re moving. Sometimes we have to scrape people up after massages and pour them back into their things. Good for you. You’re showing some backbone!”

I wasn’t entirely sure I had a backbone left at this point, or skin or muscles either, but I smiled and nodded.

“Come along, we’ve got snacks, nice healthy ones, and a cup of tea before you go. Step lively now!” I made a fruitless effort to keep up with her and ended up in a hallway with lots of doors like the one I just came out of lining it. I took a guess and went down to the archway at the far end of the hall and got lucky. There was a table with tea and assorted raw vegetables on it. I collapsed in a chair and cuddled a nice warm tea cup in my limp hands, my eyes closing with exhaustion. When I opened them again, the cup was on the table and the light in the room had changed – I could see that it was nearly dusk. I must have fallen asleep and slept for hours!

A young woman came into the room and said, “Ah, good, you’re awake. I’ll just get you some fresh tea and something a little bit heartier to eat before you go!”

“How long was I asleep?” I asked her.

“Just a few hours. That’s not bad – lots of folks sleep all night! But most of them do manage to eat before they fall asleep!” She chuckled and bustled out again, returning shortly thereafter with a bowl of soup and a plate of fruit and sandwiches. “Eat up now – the Dame’s scrubbings and massages take a lot out of a person!”

I did, and soon was stepping out the front door into the street again. The City of Ladies was proving to be an interesting place, and I wondered where I was going to go next. Then a raven flew up to me and dropped a scroll into my hands before he flew off again.

I unrolled it. Printed on it in big, black letters were the words, “PREPARE FOR THE CATACOMBS”. All righty then. I knew where I was going next.

She Wolf (c)2008