For Centuries More

by Ethan Johnson

  “Yes.”

  “You know a nice romantic place where we can get to know each other better?”

  “I think so…” Annabella raised her eyebrow. “Yes, I know a great little place.”

  “Then it sounds like you’ve got a solid plan for asking me out. I like a confident woman who takes charge.”

  “Great.”

  “Now, listen. I’m going to show you how to have fun on the job and make your boss happy too. Ready?”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s all about the kind of person you are. You’re a nice person, right?” Gracie nodded. “A thoughtful person?” Nod. “A generous person?” Nod. “Then the choice is up to you. You can either be the new girl that screws around on company time and annoys her boss by coming back late from a simple errand…”

  She stepped aside, revealing a sign a few blocks away.

  “…or you can be the new girl that everybody likes because she brought back donuts.”

  Gracie’s jaw dropped as she read the donut shop sign that she never noticed before. “You’re a genius.”

  Annabella smiled and bent forward to kiss Gracie’s cheek. “No, just more experienced.”

  She walked Gracie back to her car, which Gracie had to point out when they got close. Gracie took a deep breath, looked at her shoes, and then looked up at Annabella.

  “How about I pick you up tonight around seven, and we go to a nice little place where we can get to know each other better?”

  Annabella smiled. “I’d love to.”

  Gracie stepped around her car and unlocked the door. As she was about to get behind the wheel, she paused for a moment.

  “Wait, pick you up where, here?”

  Annabella winked. “I’ll text you.”

  CHAPTER 10: PRIVATE LESSON

  Water splashed into a saucer that contained a smooth stone, suitable for skipping across a pond. The stone remained its present form, and a woman known to James only as the Countess shook her head disapprovingly. James set the pitcher down and adjusted his glasses.

  “James, that isn’t going to do. You have done so well with your lessons. Why isn’t this working?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said with a small voice.

  “I’m afraid that ‘sorry’ isn’t producing the desired result. Have you been doing your exercises like I asked?”

  James nodded and looked down at his lap.

  The countess gave the boy a sympathetic smile. “I know this is a difficult assignment. Difficult, but not impossible. You just need to be in the right frame of mind. Perhaps you have a fear of succeeding. Perhaps you’re afraid of being able to do something only my brightest students have ever done.”

  James looked up at the countess. “Who?”

  “That’s not important, dear heart. In fact, it is best that you put such questions out of your mind entirely. The urge to compare one’s self to others is another great barrier to individual achievement.”

  “How so?”

  The countess seemed taken aback by this but smiled warmly as she spoke. “Why, it happens all the time. A runner is capable of breaking records and winning awards, but fritters the opportunity away by thinking, ‘I am fast, but not as fast as my rival.’ A scientist could discover a life-saving cure but focuses on how to be more like her role model, and not concentrating on the task at hand.”

  “So, you think that I am comparing myself to someone else? But if I don’t know who else can change stones into gold, how can I be intimidated by him… or her?”

  “The knowledge that there are others is enough, I’m afraid.”

  James pushed his glasses up his nose. “Perhaps Mister Steele might have some techniques I can try.”

  The countess blanched. “No, absolutely not, I forbid it.” She felt her features harden, and she struggled to maintain her composure. “That is… Mister Steele is committed to your education, of course. And you mustn’t feel as though you cannot turn to him for support as the need arises. But this… this is a more delicate operation, and I need you to find the part within yourself that will bring you to the desired results. Looking elsewhere, even to Mister Steele won’t provide the answer.” She reached across the table and pressed two fingers to his forehead. “The answer is in here.”

  James nodded, and looked at the pitcher. The countess sat back and shook her head.

  “That’s enough for today. Meditate on it. In time, the answer will come.”

  James stood up and nodded. “I am sorry to disappoint you.”

  The countess beamed. “No, no, no, dear heart. You’d only disappoint me if you weren’t giving this your best effort. And I know you want to succeed at this challenge, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “There’s the winning attitude I’m talking about. Off with you.”

  James walked stiffly out of the room. The countess waited until the door closed and reached over to pick up the stone from the saucer. She turned it around in her fingers and set it onto the table. She sat back and heaved a heavy sigh. “Damned incompetence.”

  James marched off to the library and found a wingback chair to sink into. He removed his glasses and held them in his hands, which rested on his lap. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing.

  A young girl with brown curly hair walked up to James and tapped him on the shoulder. He muttered something under his breath. She tapped his shoulder more intently. He snapped his eyes open and stuck his glasses back in place. “What?”

  The girl put her hands behind her back and twisted from side to side. James gave her an annoyed look and closed his eyes again. The girl tapped his shoulder twice, sharply.

  “Seriously, what?”

  “Agnes.”

  James cocked his head. “Agnes? Who is that?”

  The girl gave him a penetrating stare but said nothing. After a moment, she tapped her forehead, and walked away, wordlessly mouthing the words to a song that only she could hear. James watched her as she disappeared through the doorway, and sat back once more, removed his glasses, and concentrated on his breathing.

  Agnes, he thought to himself.

  Black smoke swirled in his mind’s eye. He felt a part of himself rise from his physical form, which still sat upright in his chair.

  CHAPTER 11: LOVE AND DONUTS

  As predicted, Gracie was the office hero upon her return, bearing two dozen assorted donuts. She set them down in the break room, and word spread like wildfire throughout the building. She made sure her immediate co-workers were the first to know, then soaked up the adulation of her associates as they all found their way to the donut boxes before they were reduced to crumbs inside of fifteen minutes. Sean and Matt in the warehouse were dealt out by way of being outside on a smoke break, and not finding out until the last donut wafted by. Gracie gave them an apologetic shrug. Jaime was more forthright.

  “Ya snooze, ya lose.” She dabbed the corners of her mouth with a paper napkin.

  After the excitement died down, Gracie tried to focus on work. In addition to answering the phone, she had to enter purchase orders into the computer. She made every effort to keep the calls brief, as she was tasked with routing the calls to the right department, or on occasion, the correct person, however some of the chattier callers made this difficult. If she couldn’t get a word in edgewise, she would enter purchase orders while waiting for the caller to take a breath, then announce where the call would be heading. She preferred handling calls to face-to-face interactions. If all else failed, she could have a phone problem and accidentally lose the call. That wasn’t as easy to pull off in person.

  Gracie neatened up a stack of purchase orders and began to enter the first one. The phone rang immediately. She began to reach for the telephone handset and realized that none of the lights were flashing. She turned her cell phone over and realized she had received a new text message, not a call. The preview pane said Image: 1 Attachment (900kb) from a number she didn’t recognize. She glanced around furtively, and dete
rmined that the coast was clear, or clear enough, as Cathy was on the phone and arguing with somebody about an invoice.

  Gracie set her phone down on her lap and opened the message, which after a moment or two was revealed as a photo of Annabella—she was still getting used to that name, as she would if somebody repeatedly called her Lauren—who gave a sultry stare into the camera. Gracie felt a thrill shoot through her. A second message followed, which was text only:

  9:58 AM: Are you using protection?

  Gracie swiveled her head left and right, and quickly tapped a reply.

  9:59 AM: Yes

  She entered the first purchase order from the stack into the computer, making sure not to make any mistakes. She caught herself typing “sex” instead of “section” for one of the line items and hoped that was the worst of it. The phone buzzed on her lap. Gracie reached down and tapped the screen.

  10:05 AM: Want to see my panties?

  Gracie sucked in her breath. Lacey was never this forward. To be fair, she thought, Warren would have flipped out if he caught her messing around texting instead of organizing the rental skates or something. Cathy continued her argument, and Gracie tapped out another reply.

  10:06 AM: Hell yeah!

  She took a few deep breaths and tried to focus once more. The office handset rang, and Gracie spoke slowly so as not to slip up when talking to customers.

  “Modern Roofing Supply, how may I direct your call?” (Pause.) “Pant… Purchasing? One moment please.” She pressed a few buttons on the phone and sent the call on its way. She set the handset back onto the cradle and went back to her purchase order in progress. She proofed the entry, fixed some typos, and completed the first order. She slipped the finished order into the appropriate tray on the edge of her desk and moved on to the next one. Her phone buzzed.

  10:10 AM: Then dinner had better be *very* good.

  Gracie groaned. Dinner! She had no idea where to go, and what Trix—Annabella was into. “Small and romantic” were the only words she had to go on. She looked around the office and tried to think of somebody who might have a suggestion. After drawing a blank, she threw open a browser window and searched for “small and romantic restaurants Chicago”. At the bottom of the initial results screen, she clicked on a tempting search refinement: “Small and romantic affordable restaurants Chicago”. After scrolling through the first page of results, clicking a promising lead, and scrolling through a top-ten list with single photos for each entry, she made a gut decision. She tapped the restaurant’s phone number into her phone and waited for her first available opportunity to call for a reservation.

  10:18 AM: Dinner *will* be very good, yes?

  Gracie gulped.

  10:18 AM: Yes it will - sorry, boss right here

  She entered another purchase order as quickly as she could, without making mistakes. Somebody would catch them and let her know, and Gracie would apologize and make the necessary fixes, but today of all days, the lower under the radar she was, the better.

  10:20 AM: (Photo of cleavage)

  10:20 AM: Then you probably shouldn’t be looking down my dress. ;-)

  Gracie felt her ears redden as she turned off the screen on her cell phone. Jaime came around the corner and stood at her desk.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Great. Just getting these, um, POs done.”

  “I’ll take what you have so far.”

  “I just started, so there’s, like, one?”

  Jaime shot her a questioning glance, then gestured toward Cathy. “She’s still on the phone with RevCon? Sheesh! It’s probably hard to concentrate with all that racket.”

  Gracie shrugged. “I can handle it. Actually, I hate asking this, but can you cover the phone for like, five minutes?”

  “Sure, I guess so… why?”

  “I kinda have a date tonight, and I need to try to get a dinner reservation.”

  Jaime’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? Well, alright…” She began to walk around Gracie’s desk, but stopped halfway. “Wait, why isn’t he doing that? How does this fall to you all of a sudden?”

  “I don’t mind. I asked, actually, so it kinda does fall to me.”

  Jaime waved her out of her seat. “Okay, fine, make it quick.”

  Gracie stepped out front and called the restaurant. She lucked out and snagged an 8:30 P.M. reservation for two. She concluded the call and sent Annabella a text message.

  Dinner is set for 8:30… can’t wait!

  She deleted the message without sending it. She re-typed the entry and sent it off.

  10:28 AM: Need address for tonight please

  Gracie re-claimed her chair and went back to work. She routed three calls in a row, then continued her data entry. She tried not to think about the phone on her lap and tried to complete as many purchase orders as possible, to avoid being called out as the office bottleneck.

  Her phone buzzed. She waited until the purchase order she had just entered was proofed and after fielding two more phone calls before peeking at her messages.

  10:39 AM: Fun first. Tell me what you think about this dress.

  10:40 AM: (Photo of a white sun dress with a purple flower pattern)

  Gracie smiled, and tapped out a reply.

  10:42 AM: It’s ok, I guess

  Jaime stopped by and picked up a stack of ten completed purchase orders. She riffled through the stack and gave Gracie an approving smile. “You’re just on fire today, aren’t you?”

  Gracie smiled and shrugged. “Yeah, today is good.”

  Jaime returned to her desk, and Gracie’s phone buzzed. She looked down at the screen and suppressed a yelp. Cathy peered over at Gracie, who flipped the phone over on her lap before she could see the screen. The phone glowed between her legs, and anyone who would have flipped the phone back over would have been presented with a photo of a woman making a pouty face against a pair of bare breasts with the caption, I’d better take it off, then.

  “What happened?” Cathy tried to get a glimpse of what set Gracie off.

  “Nothing, just thought I dropped my phone.”

  “Well, put it in your desk. You shouldn’t have that thing out anyway.”

  Gracie nodded sheepishly. She set the phone into her top desk drawer and did all she could to ignore the buzzing sounds it made up until lunchtime.

  CHAPTER 12: PROJECTION

  James felt his skin burning. He didn’t see any flames, or anything that would provide such a sensation. He couldn’t see anything at all. He was surrounded by the deepest darkness, an inkier black than he had ever known. He felt something—or someone—was on the other side of the void, but the closer he traveled to it, the more intense the burning sensation became. He reached out and touched something on the other side of the darkness, something soft. He felt as though his skin were melting, and he recoiled from it.

  Whatever was causing these feelings was too close, and he couldn’t observe its essence. James had only been studying for just over a year at Eddington Manor, and Mister Steele constantly praised his progress through his lessons. Now the countess had made a special trip to the manor just to work with him one-on-one, which he felt was a tremendous honor. He wondered why he couldn’t tell Mister Steele about their lessons. He didn’t feel as though they were doing anything wrong. He decided that perhaps she wanted to surprise Mister Steele with a demonstration of his new-found ability to change stones into gold, that is, whenever he succeeded.

  She mentioned that others had succeeded before him. He wasn’t to ask about them, but the mention of a single name brought him here. His experience suggested that this was no coincidence. The young girl who spoke the name was called Aubra. She had only recently come to the manor. Mister Steele spoke highly of her as well, in hushed tones. James felt pangs of envy from time to time when he would hear him lavish praise upon her and wondered how he might regain his status as the favorite. Then the demonstration of how to change stone into gold came into sharp focus: this was the way. The countess was look
ing out for him.

  He floated backward, in hopes of breaking free from the absolute darkness that enveloped him. The darkness was replaced by incandescent light, and James looked down at a half-naked woman sleeping in a bathtub. When he registered her state of undress, he averted his gaze, and found the bathroom door. He passed through the opening and floated around the corner into a sparsely furnished bedroom. There was a twin bed against the wall, a white desk with a chair pushed in and a knit bag slung over the back, and a nightstand. The walls were bare. A pair of plain white curtains hung over the only window.

  James contrasted this with the well-appointed manor. In his physical form, he nestled his back into a padded leather wingback chair. Such a chair would have been quite luxurious in contrast with the painted white wooden chair he hovered beside in his astral form.

  James decided to check out the rest of the apartment. He floated into the second bedroom and was surprised to see such a marked change. The bed was larger, with a nightstand on either side but only one lamp, with a black sheet kicked off beside a lumpy red comforter. Clothes were strewn across the floor, and pictures were tacked up around the room. A small television stood on top of a 5-drawer dresser, from which two of the drawers were pulled out slightly, with clothing spilling over the sides.

  He floated out into the living room. It was sparse like the first bedroom he examined, but eclectic enough to give him the impression that the occupants were roommates. Why one of them was half-naked in the bathtub remained a mystery, at present. Was she Agnes? He decided to return to the bathroom and investigate further.

  He floated into the small bathroom and bent over the tub. He reached an ethereal hand out to the sleeping woman’s forehead and felt an intense burning sensation. He yanked his hand away and shook it vigorously. In his physical state, he winced and rubbed his palm on his pant leg.