Queens of All the Earth Read Online Free Page B

Edinburgh, Johannesburg. Spent some time in New Delhi. My favorite so far is Hong Kong, though. I’m telling you, the future is Asia. Go east, young woman. There’s a great breakfast bar there run by an Aussie. Best eggs I’ve had in my life, and the menu is in Cantonese.”
    “Didn’t you worry about the bird flu?”
    “This guy kept his own chickens, on the roof. I’m surprised they didn’t get altitude sickness. He was a real crazy.”
    While Miranda interrogated Lenny about Barcelona, Olivia watched as Mr. Brown caught Hugo on his second pass from back bathroom to hall. They spoke—Olivia couldn’t tell in what language—and Mr. Brown beckoned his son, who followed the pair down and away into the hall that led to the far side of the hostel, to the dark unmapped region of the manager’s rooms.
    “We thought we’d do Gaudí today,” Miranda was saying. She was talking about Barcelona’s most famous architect. “But we don’t want to go all the way out to the park. That kills practically half a day, and it’s just one thing.”
    “I can do Gaudí in half a day, tops. Why don’t I show you later this week?” Lenny said. “No park, but we can hit up all the other major stuff.”
    “What are you doing this morning?” Miranda asked.
    “There’s a walking tour of the Gothic Quarter,” Lenny replied. The Gothic Quarter, or Barri Gótic , was the central and oldest part of Barcelona, where many of the original medieval buildings stood intact, framing narrow winding streets tangled like a heap of yarn. “If you’re ready in ten minutes, you can tag along. It’s a great way to get to know Barcelona—walk from the middle ages to the nineteenth century in a day. And it’s free, which is freakin’ awesome.”
    “How about it, Olivia?” Miranda said.
    Olivia was fine with it. She was fine with not waiting for the toast. She was fine with putting off writing her e-mail home. As Lenny left the table to get ready, Miranda probed each concern, checking them off a mental list, finally satisfying herself that if Olivia wasn’t thrilled about the trip yet, she was at least resigned.
    Just then, without introduction or invitation, the elder Mr. Brown stepped up to the table and said, “Young ladies, we took the liberty of switching rooms with you. Hugo’s getting clean sheets, and Greg is moving our things now.”
    Miranda’s mouth dropped open.
    “That’s very—I couldn’t imagine—obviously we couldn’t make you move out of your room,” she said. She remembered Lenny’s warning about the Browns and wondered what the real price of the room was—morning prayer meeting? Spontaneous baptism? Or just a low simmer of kinder-than-thou guilting? Miranda and Olivia hadn’t grown up with any religion, and while she hadn’t been taught aggressive atheism either, Miranda felt slightly uncomfortable around anyone who professed faith. She wondered whether Mr. Brown was really nice, or just strange.
    “You don’t have to make us. It’s already done,” said Mr. Brown.
    “That’s very—thoughtful—but really... I’m sorry, we don’t even know you,” Miranda said.
    “I’m Emery Brown,” he said with a gentle smile, as if it resolved the whole matter. It made Miranda boil. “And that’s my son, Greg,” he continued, indicating the young man who had just passed through, rolling a suitcase with one hand and clutching a mass of pajamas and towels in the other.
    Olivia looked down, and Miranda assumed she was embarrassed, too. But then, the private room would be best for Olivia. She was still fragile, after all.
    “Well, okay, I can pay you the difference,” Miranda said, more pertly this time. “Olivia can get our things. I’ll go to the ATM and get the cash. We don’t want to hold you up after you’ve been so... nice. Let me take care of it right now.”
    “I thought you wanted to go on the walking tour,” Olivia said.
    “We’ll have to miss it. Unless we can take care of everything