"I never had parents."
Thomas gasped.
"Everyone has a mom and dad."
"Why?"
"Because Mom said so."
"Ah. Well, parents don't always tell the truth, Thomas. Sometimes they say things to make their children feel better or behave."
"My mom don' lie!" Thomas cried, his lower lip sticking out stubbornly.
"Don't yell, Thomas. I said I don't like it when you yell."
The stern reprimand made the boy's eyes tear up.
"I sorry."
"That's better. As I was saying, sometimes parents want to protect their children or make them feel better so they tell stories. If you don't believe me, ask your mom when you wake up. Now, it's time you went to sleep. We'll play again tomorrow night."
"You mad at me?"
"No, but you mustn't question me when I tell you something. Tomorrow you will see that I always tell the truth. Good night, Thomas."
"Okay, night."
Closing his eyes, Thomas quickly fell asleep, relieved that his friend wasn't mad at him. The shadow patiently waited in the dark. His plans were progressing well.
* * *
For the next twenty years, Thomas' friend appeared every night in the bedroom, subtly manipulating the child and then the adult until it eventually was able to control him. When Thomas discovered who his childhood companion really was and his motives, it was too late to do anything about it.
CHAPTER 7
Angie, Sylvie, Lumiere and Soleil
THE LIGHT WAS her life. It nourished her, warmed her and soothed her. Her world was bright and warm and beautiful; a kaleidoscope of colors constantly moving about in an endless dance... until the darkness crept in, obliterating the light. Were it not for her partner, the darkness would have been unbearable. As if in response to her thoughts, a soft caress touched her. At the same time her life partner shivered with pleasure.
"You are so beautiful," Angie whispered, leaning down to kiss the warm lips of the woman lying quietly beneath the satin sheets.
"Apparently you're not wearing your contacts, again," her wife teased. "Lucky me!"
"Lucky both of us then. In my blindness I see beauty. In yours you see the ordinary."
"Aren't you the philosopher tonight!" Sylvie taunted and then squeaked when she was abruptly poked in the rib.
"You're awfully brave considering I have the advantage."
"Well then, why is it taking you so long to use it?"
Sylvie's voice was soft and whispery. Her warm breath smelled of chocolate and mint, the after affects of a peppermint patty she had been eating only minutes earlier.
Leaning down, Angie kissed her gently, trying not to touch her wife's injured shoulder. When Sylvie gasped, Angie pulled back and frowned.
"Did I hurt you? Are you in pain?"
"No and no. It's just been too long since we've made love. I'm hungry."
Angie laughed.
"It's only been three days since I fell down those blasted steps."
"That's an eternity."
"Well, the doctor said you needed to be careful for another couple of weeks."
"He said careful, Angie. He didn't say anything about celibacy. Besides, you've always wanted to be a top. Now's your chance. I promise not to resist too much."
Both of Angie's eyebrows shot up, and she gave her wife an exaggerated, haughty look.
"My, my, but you are asking for it, aren't you?"
Sylvie grinned.
"Do I have to ask?" She already knew the answer.
Pulling off her tee shirt and undies, Angie climbed over her lover and slipped under the sheets.
"Do you want the light off?"
"No. I like to watch you when we make love. I love how your eyes light up and how serious you sometimes look when you're concentrating on pleasing me. I want to see the sweat glistening on your shoulders and trickling between your breasts. Besides, it makes our Shadows happy."
Angie laughed.
"You and your Shadows. You've been talking about our Shadows for over sixteen years. I still can't believe you think they're alive."
Sylvie grinned.
"They are! Watch!"
Moving her arm slowly she watched her shadow as it mimicked her movements. Angie stared in amusement as the dark arm slid across the dimly lit wall and came in contact with her own shadow at the very moment Sylvie's hand caressed her left breast. When Angie shivered, Sylvie smiled.
"Now tell me your Shadow didn't enjoy mine's touch."
"When you do that, I'd tell you anything you wanted to hear." Angie gasped, her heart racing. The pulse in her neck beat furiously. She wondered if her shadow was feeling the same way and then mentally shook her head.
You'd believe Etheridge was straight if it got you laid! Angie's conscience never let her get away with anything but if Sylvie wanted to believe in Shadows, that was okay.
They had been a couple for several years and, hopefully, for many more to come. Just the thought made her feel warm and loved. Leaning across her lover, she began to slowly explore the sensitive areas of Sylvie's body that she had discovered after years of experimentation. Occasionally, though, she would glance at their shadows as they moved in sync with her and her wife and couldn't help but wonder – what if Sylvie was right? What if their shadows were alive? Did hers feel what she felt? Did they understand love and longing and joy? Angie hoped so and quickly forgot the thought as her tongue traced its way down her wife's warm body to the right thigh and then the knee. Puckering her lips, she sucked gently on the skin and then began moving up the inside of Sylvie’s thigh toward the musky scent teasing her nostrils.
"You smell so good." She groaned.
Sylvie shifted her left leg slightly, opening herself to her lover's touch. Her leg quivered as if straining but she knew it was from anticipation. Angie knew her body well.
The tongue flicked the moist skin and then teased the hairs that concealed what she sought. As Sylvie arched upward to meet her, she felt a slight twinge in her left shoulder. Before she could react, a warm hand covered it and then disappeared beneath its surface. The pain quickly disappeared. Turning her head, she glanced at the two Shadows on the wall and smiled.
Thank you, she mouthed and then lost herself in her lover's adept lovemaking. The two Shadows smiled at each other and silently exchanged giggles.
If only Angie knew what Sylvie knows, one thought.
And where's the fun in that?, the other replied, embracing her Shadow lover intimately. They too became lost in their union. They were fortunate. Not only were their life partners well suited for each other but they too found their own energies pleasingly compatible. Although they could communicate with each other anytime they wanted, the moments when they could touch each other were precious. It wasn't often that lovers chose to display their intimacy in the light.
As Angie continued stroking Sylvie with her tongue, she could feel her wife's body responding. Moisture pooled between warm thighs. Legs trembled. Short gasps and soft groans told Angie that she was succeeding in her efforts to please her lover. Separating the thick lips with her tongue, she buried her face in the warmth and inhaled deeply.
I could die here, she thought and then mentally chuckled. But I don't think Sylvie would be too happy.
The Shadows stopped their own explorations and shook their heads.
Humans!
* * *
Satiated, Angie rolled over on her back and stared at the ceiling.
"Wow, that was intense!" she gasped, her voice husky.
As her heartbeat gradually slowed, she turned to stare at Sylvie and smiled.
"You all right?"
"Oh yeah! Just trying to catch my breath," Sylvie whispered. Reaching out, she gently stroked Angie's cheek and then let her eyes wander to the Shadow on the wall that was emulating her movements. Nodding her head in that direction, she turned Angie's head toward the gray shapes.
"They're happy, too."
Angie
laughed.
"You are such a romantic. I think that's one of the things I love most about you. You see the good in everything."
"Well, someone has to. Can you imagine living with someone who sees only the bad in people? What an awful way to live," Sylvie replied, poking Angie in the ribs. "Thank goodness you're beginning to see the light. You were such a stick in the mud when we first met."
"Stick in the mud! I'll have you know I've never been a stick in the mud, thank you very much," Angie said, feigning indignation. She knew Sylvie was right but wasn't about to admit it.
"Okay, maybe not... but you sure were angry looking."
"So why'd you approach me?"
"I was curious and... I don't know... I got this sudden feeling that you were more lost than angry. It's hard to explain."
Angie frowned, remembering back to a time that she would have preferred to forget. Sylvia had asked if she could imagine living with someone who only saw the bad in people. She didn't need to imagine. Aunt Jenny was that person.
* * *
She had just turned sixteen when her mom died. That was putting it nicely. Suicide wasn't about dying. It was about destroying those you'd left behind who cared about you, and not giving a damn. At least that was how Angie felt at the time and she was angry; angry at being abandoned and angry at having to live with an aunt who continually reminded her of her mom's faults and selfishness.
She would never forget the day that changed the rest of her life. Aunt Jenny barged into her small bedroom at 7:30 in the morning, demanding that she get her lazy ass out of bed and get dressed.
Put on something nice, she had said. Her mom's attorney was coming over to discuss her estate.
"I just hope your mother at least left enough money for me to cover her burial expenses. Twenty-three hundred dollars to cremate someone. What a ripoff! No one's worth that much money dead. And you!" Aunt Jenny spat, pointing an accusing finger at Angie. "Lord knows I don't make enough money to feed and clothe you. Colleen was always a selfish bitch. Getting knocked up by that man when she couldn't afford to raise a child.... I told her to get an abortion but she wouldn't hear of it. Now she goes and kills herself and leaves me stuck with a lazy good for nothing."
Stomping out of the room, Jenny slammed the door behind her. Angie's eyes clouded with unshed tears but she forced them back. She would never allow her aunt to see her weakness.
Thirty minutes later, she reluctantly walked down the stairs and entered the living room. A tall, gray haired man was sitting in the worn, green recliner, shuffling through some papers. He and Jenny glanced up, and her aunt frowned.
"Jesus Christ, Angie. Do you always have to dress like a boy? I'd have thought Colleen would at least have trained you how to dress properly." Turning to the man, she shook her head in disgust. "Kids nowadays! It's no wonder the world's going to hell. Now you just march right upstairs and put on a dress. I'll not have Mr. Pierce thinking I'm raising a tomboy – or worse, a dyke."
The man's eyes narrowed slightly. Henry Pierce had always detested Colleen's sister. She was a vindictive, ill-tempered woman. Why his client left her as her child's guardian was beyond him.
"She's just fine, Ms. Hampton. Now, I have another appointment at ten so we need to get this finalized. Please have a seat, Angie."
Doing as she was instructed, Angie leaned back in the chair and waited. She had met her mom's attorney twice before and liked him.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Angie. I know this is hard on you," Mr. Pierce said, sympathetically. "I've known your mom since she was a little girl." Coughing slightly, the attorney turned his attention to the paperwork in his hands.
"First, the good news is that there's enough money in the estate to pay for her funeral. She took out a small insurance policy a few years ago specifically for that. You should be receiving a check from the agency in a week or two."
"At least she did something right," Jenny said, relieved that she wasn't going to have to foot the bill.
"Please, Ms. Hampton," Mr. Pierce admonished.
Blushing at the obvious reprimand, Jenny clamped her jaws tight but decided not to say anything. Alienating her sister's attorney wasn't wise.
"Now where was I... oh yes, the funeral. As I was saying, there's an insurance policy that will cover that. Also, she has a small trust account for you, Angie, with about ninety-eight thousand dollars in it. That should more than cover your care for the next two years plus have enough left over for college if that's what you want. Of course, at the moment, your aunt is in charge of the trust but when you turn eighteen, you'll be able to do with it whatever you want."
Angie sat in stunned silence. Two years was a long time, but she could handle it if she had something to look forward to. Surely, she'd have at least half of that left by the time she was eighteen.
"Ninety-eight thousand dollars!" Jenny exclaimed. "How'd Colleen save that much?"
"She was very frugal and made a few good investments. It was important to her that Angie have something if anything happened to her."
"Thank goodness for that, anyway. Not that ninety-eight thousand dollars goes very far nowadays. It'll barely cover the cost of feeding and clothing this child."
"Ms. Hampton, you do understand that this money can only be used on Angie's behalf?"
"Of course, of course."
Secretly, Jenny was already thinking of the things it would buy, and none of it had to do with her niece.
"Good! Well, all I need is your signature on a few documents. As executor of your sister's estate, you're responsible for making sure everything is taken care of according to Colleen's wishes. I'll require an expenditure sheet once a month."
After getting her aunt to sign the papers, Mr. Pierce gathered his briefcase, hat and coat. Patting Angie on the shoulder, he left.
Turning to Angie, Jenny frowned.
"Don't go thinking I forgot about you and the way you're dressed. Just look at those jeans – faded with holes in the knees. You intentionally put those rags on to embarrass me. It's no wonder your mother did what she did. Now you get your..."
"Fuck you!" Angie growled and stormed out the front door, slamming it loudly.
"You ungrateful brat!" Jenny yelled after her. "Don't think you'll get away talking to me like that! I'll have you arrested and locked up!"
Angie didn't know whether she was angrier at her aunt's cruelty or her mom's betrayal for leaving her with the one person she had hated most of her life. Aunt Jenny had always been critical of Colleen and her daughter. Why, Angie never knew nor cared.
* * *
"Earth to Angie, Earth to Angie," a voice whispered in her ear.
Turning her head slightly, Angie stared at its owner for a few seconds and then grinned sheepishly.
"Sorry, I was just remembering back to when we first met. I think you saved my life that day."
As much as Sylvie wanted to deny it, in her heart she suspected there was some truth to her lover's statement.
"It was a pretty rough time for you. I'm just glad the fates brought us together at that moment."
Angie rolled her eyes.
"First it's Shadows, now it's fate. Sixteen years together and you still haven't changed."
"And I never will, so you might as well not get your hopes up. Besides, even if you don't believe me, I happen to know we were destined to be together."
Angie smiled.
"Now that I believe!"
Well, at least there's hope for your life partner, Lumiere, Sylvie's Les Gris said, nudging Soleil with her shadowy elbow.
Behave!
If a Shadow could roll her eyes, Lumiere would have done so.
You're just as bad as your human! She said.
Look who's talking. Now hush!
Because of their positions, neither Sylvia nor Angie could see the disgruntled Shadow crossing her arms.
* * *
Cupping Sylvie's chin in her hand, Angie rubbed her thumb gently back and forth over the cheek.
<
br /> "I'm serious. The few months we were together made me realize I might have a chance at a future. That day was the start of my life."
"Mine too. I couldn't believe it when your aunt called the police on you. She was such a bitch."
"Yeah, she knew I was going to stay over at your place. I left a note on the table telling her. It was just an excuse to get me out of the picture and her hands on my money after I accused her of stealing some of it."
Les Gris - TI4 Page 4