Every Touch

by Parke, Nerika

  Remember you used to tell me that one day I would meet someone who would change everything for me? He looked at her and she nodded. It took dying for it to happen, but it did. Laila’s the one. I haven’t ever felt like this before. I love her with all my heart.

  Trish studied Laila for a few seconds then nodded. “Okay,” she said.

  “I am so sorry for lying to you and then breaking into your house and stealing the boxes I promise that upsetting you was the last thing I wanted to happen we just didn’t want to involve you but the plan went wrong and now we need you but I really hope you can forgive me because I like you a lot and it’s very important to me that one day you could maybe like me too because I love Denny so much and you’re his sister.”

  Laila’s words blurted out as one long, rushed sentence. She gasped in a breath at the end and stared at Trish, appearing so distressed that Denny felt the need to put a comforting arm around her. Trish looked at her and laughed softly.

  “I don’t know what’s going on,” she said, “but I know you must have had a good reason. Of course I forgive you. You’ve reunited me with my little brother. And I already like you, ever since we met.”

  He felt Laila slump against him in relief.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “And I’m so sorry I slapped you,” Trish added sheepishly.

  Laila smiled. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you after what I did.”

  “I’m really not a violent person.”

  Tell that to the five boys you beat up in school.

  “Six,” Trish said with a smile. “And it was all to save your sorry behind.”

  Denny grinned and leaned forward to tweak her nose, making her smile. I know.

  It took some time to fill Trish in on everything that had happened. When Laila finished telling her all about their life together, the fading and the ritual, she left to visit Kelly and give Denny and Trish time alone together.

  They talked for two hours, sharing their lives since they had last seen each other. Being with Trish again made Denny realise just how much he still missed his sister. He didn’t want to lose his family again.

  “I’m not going to tell John or Jay,” she said when it came time for her to leave and Denny walked with her to the lobby. “John wouldn’t believe me anyway and I don’t want to risk Jay being hurt again until you’re back with us. He took your death so hard.”

  I understand.

  “I’ll come round tomorrow after work.”

  OK. On a sudden whim, he desolidified his hand and passed it through hers.

  She gasped and looked at it.

  “That... I felt that before, when I was here last.” Realisation dawned on her face. “You were there. That was you.”

  That was me. I didn’t know how to touch things then and all I could do was pass my hand through you. But you’re the only one who can feel it, I think because we’re related.

  Tears shone in Trish’s eyes. “I just left you here. Alone.”

  He immediately regretted reminding her. I was OK. And I’ve been happy. Please don’t be upset.

  “But I could have done something.”

  What? Kept renting the flat? Come to visit me every few days? It would have been like I had some chronic illness and you had to visit me in hospital for five years. It was better as it was. I needed to adjust to being dead and you needed to let me go.

  Trish was quite for a while. “I know you’re right,” she said and smiled as though she could hear his laughter. “Enjoy the moment, you won’t be hearing that often.” She stepped to the door, then paused. “But I never could let you go.”

  He hugged her at that, blinking back tears. “I have missed you so much.”

  Forty

  Everything was ready.

  They had been over every detail again and again, making sure there were no mistakes. It had to be right, they knew there would be no room for error and no second chances. Denny and Laila had even met with Crystal again to ensure no detail had been overlooked. The expression of shock on her face when she walked in and saw Trish and Kelly with them was immensely satisfying. Denny tried not to let the feeling of smugness reach his face, but he knew he failed. It felt good to be able to prove his dedication to Laila in Crystal’s eyes, childish as he knew that was. He wasn’t accustomed to people not liking him.

  Nevertheless, it was a surprise when Crystal asked to speak to him and Laila alone before she left. They travelled down to the lobby together.

  “I’ve got to admit, I didn’t expect you to be able to pull this off,” she said as they stood by the door, “but I have to admit, if anyone can do it, you two can. I still think it has a snowflake’s chance in hell of working though.” She looked toward the door leading outside and her eyes took on a faraway look. “You asked when I first knew I could see ghosts. I was nineteen and I met a man who had died near our house. He was the first ghost I’d ever seen. He was also my first love.”

  She said it matter-of-factly, as if she’d just related the contents of a shopping list, but Denny didn’t miss the flicker of pain behind her eyes.

  “We had a year together before he faded. I often wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t...” She shrugged and looked at Laila. “But that was one crappy and three good husbands ago. If this doesn’t work, you need to know that once he’s gone, you are still living. Your life shouldn’t end just because his has.”

  This time, Denny understood why she was so antagonistic towards him. And he didn’t blame her. Much.

  “I’m so sorry,” Laila said, “and I do understand. But this will work. We will make it work.” She tightened her grip on Denny’s hand.

  “Well, we’ll see,” Crystal answered, looking unconvinced. “But if by some miracle it does, you can thank me with a bottle of the good stuff. And an invite to your wedding.” She walked towards the door. “And you could name your first child after me too.”

  Denny opened the door for her and smiled. “Yeah, don’t push it.”

  ***

  Denny spent almost the whole night before the day of the ritual awake, wrapped up in the woman he loved more than anything in the world, beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. He couldn’t keep himself from Laila, needing to be inside her over and over, trying to gain comfort and strength from being united with her. From the way she clung to him, he knew she felt the same. Their lovemaking was tinged with desperation and sadness as both of them tried, and failed, to push the impending day from their thoughts. Tears were shed more than once, by both of them.

  When they finally fell asleep, exhausted, their sweat-sheened bodies entwined together amongst the sheets, the sun was already filtering through the curtains, lightening the room.

  It was after midday when Denny woke again.

  He didn’t open his eyes immediately. He was lying on his left side and Laila was facing him, their bodies pressed close. Their arms were wrapped around each other, their legs tangled together. Her face was tilted forward, resting against his bare chest where he could feel her soft breath on his skin. One of his legs was bent between her thighs.

  He could feel the movement of her body as she breathed, the slow steady rhythm telling him she was still asleep.

  He relaxed, concentrating on the sensation of her naked body wrapped up in his, breathing in her warmly familiar, intoxicating scent. It made his heart beat faster and his body react with enthusiasm, but he ignored his physical responses and simply lay still, absorbing the touch of the incredible woman who had become his whole world.

  He didn’t know what the day would bring. It could be amazing and wonderful, if the restoration ritual worked and brought him back from the dead. It could be heartbreaking, the end of hope, if it failed and nothing changed. Or something unforeseen could happen to him, some terrible consequence of the ritual no-one knew about.

  They could lose each other today.

  Laila had wanted to wait until they had to do it and not jeopardise any of the time they had left togethe
r, but Crystal had told them it would be better to do it soon, while Denny still had a strong connection to the physical world. Once he started fading and that bond began to weaken, she said, it might lessen their chances of being able to bring him back. Since no-one could predict when he would start to go, they had decided to not take any risks and do the ritual as quickly as possible, afraid as they both were.

  Denny thought back to the day Laila moved into the flat. If he’d known then what he knew now, how completely she would take over his world, how she would end up holding his happiness in the palm of her hand, would he have done anything differently? He decided the answer was no, except maybe he would have introduced himself to her sooner, had a little more time to feel the warmth of her love. Three and a half months wasn’t enough. But he suspected sixty years wouldn’t be enough.

  A stab of fear pierced his heart. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.

  Squeezing his eyes closed against the tears that were suddenly burning his eyes, he reached out his heart.

  “Please,” he prayed, “I know I haven’t been the best person. I know I’ve done so many things wrong and I don’t deserve this, but please forgive me. And please don’t take us from each other.”

  He felt movement in his arms and opened his eyes as Laila lifted her head. He pressed his lips to her forehead.

  “Good morning,” she said, her voice sleepy and rough.

  Her eyelids opened slowly and he looked into her sparkling green eyes. A feeling of peace enveloped him and he smiled.

  “Actually, I think it’s afternoon,” he said, reaching behind her to pick up the clock from the bedside cabinet and showing it to her.

  Her eyes widened and she laughed softly. “Sorry, good afternoon.”

  He kissed her lips and rolled onto his back, stretching his legs out as she tucked herself into his side, laying her head on his chest.

  “I should get up,” she said, making no effort to do so.

  Smiling, he drifted his fingers lazily up and down her bare back.

  “Mmm, that feels so good,” she breathed.

  She began to plant soft, sensuous kisses on the skin of his chest, slowly making her way down across his stomach. His breathing quickened and as she pushed down the sheet that was draped across his lower half and tented over his groin, a groan escaped his lips. Her left hand reached for him, stroking him slowly as she continued to feather light kisses onto his abdomen. When she grasped the base of his shaft and moved lower, closing her mouth around him, one final thought drifted across his mind as he sank into unrestrained bliss; however the coming night ended, he was going to make these final hours they had together the best of Laila’s life.

  ***

  Trish arrived just before seven in the evening, Kelly ten minutes later.

  They appeared as tense as Denny felt. Both of them were wearing all black, as was Laila. He stood and looked at the three of them standing together, a brunette, a blonde and a redhead all dressed like cat burglars, and began to laugh. Grabbing the pen and pad from the coffee table, he scribbled quickly.

  You look like you’re filming a remake of Charlie’s Angels.

  The tension snapped like a severed bungee cord as they read his words, looked at each other, and erupted into laughter. Several minutes later they were able to calm down enough to get started on their preparations.

  “Thanks, Denny, I really needed that,” Kelly said, wiping her eyes as she began setting up the supplies she’d brought to take Trish’s blood.

  It took around an hour, including all the preparations, to take the pint of blood required, after which Trish went to relax on the bed. Having donated blood the previous week, Kelly was concerned that she might be too weak, but Trish was insistent on going along for the ritual, despite Denny’s attempt to protest.

  The conversation was brief. Trish said, “Will it kill me?” to which Kelly replied, “No.” Then Denny managed to write, But, before Trish took the pen from his hand and said, “I’m going and that’s final,” in her most commanding big sister tone of voice, which she’d been perfecting since he was two. After that he knew there was no point arguing.

  He sat with Laila and Kelly for an hour, talking quietly while Trish slept until he went to wake her for the final preparations before they left.

  Denny had been dreading this part more than anything else. The ritual said, “The blood of the spirit shall marry with the blood of the living, the one in whom true love burns bright, and shall be carried within the living vessel to flow out onto the remains”. When he found out what that actually meant, he was horrified. But now here they were, doing it.

  He sat behind Laila, his right arm around her waist, his chest pressed against her back. A towel covered her lap. Kelly sat before them, a scalpel in her latex-gloved hands.

  “Are you ready?” she said.

  “No,” he replied with sincerity.

  “Yes,” Laila said at the same time.

  She reached out her left arm, palm up. Kelly nodded, sterilised the area on the inside of Laila’s arm, and began to make an incision. As soon as the blade bit into Laila’s skin, her breath hissed in between her teeth and Denny felt her tense. He watched the scalpel cut into her for two seconds, her blood oozing around the blade, before he couldn’t stand it anymore and squeezed his eyes closed against the sight of the woman he loved being hurt. He tightened his hold on her, trying to give her strength he didn’t feel.

  “Alright, Denny, your turn.”

  He opened his eyes at Kelly’s voice to see a four inch long cut in Laila’s forearm seeping blood onto the towel on her lap. He blinked away tears. Kelly looked pale as she reached for his arm which he had extended next to Laila’s. Running her hand around his arm to be sure of its position, she held it from underneath and pressed the scalpel to his skin.

  Sharp, burning agony exploded into his flesh. He tensed as Laila had and she gripped his right hand in hers. It took less than ten seconds for Kelly to make the cut, but it felt to Denny like hours. The pain was excruciating.

  This time he managed to watch the whole process as the scalpel sliced through his flesh, finding it easier to see his own mutilation than Laila’s, but nevertheless his masculinity was taking a beating. He was glad the three women couldn’t see how much it was taking out of him.

  When Kelly had finished, he rotated his elbow and pressed his arm on top of Laila’s, joining the two incisions so the blood would flow from his wound into her. He entwined their fingers and they sat in silence, allowing their blood to intermingle. She sniffed and he buried his face in her shoulder, willing her pain away as his own arm throbbed.

  They remained that way for ten minutes, giving it as much time as possible to work, before they separated. Kelly immediately cleaned around Laila’s wound and applied a dressing to seal in the flow of blood. Denny’s cut had stopped bleeding and he took the plaster strip Kelly handed him and stuck it to his skin.

  He felt Laila take a shaky breath. She was still sitting against him, his arm around her. Denny found himself not wanting to move or let go.

  “It’s time,” she said, her voice soft and trembling. She leaned forward and he let her stand, joining her moments later.

  Trish and Kelly stood with them. The backpacks and folding ladder they were taking were leaning against the wall by the door. Everything was ready. Except for Denny.

  He hugged Kelly, taking her completely by surprise, and she let out a small yelp then laughed as she hugged him back. He then moved to Trish. His sister held onto him for long moments before kissing his cheek and pulling away, wiping at her eyes.

  Then, taking Laila’s hand, he led her into the bedroom and shut the door.

  Without a word she wrapped her arms around his waist, melting into him as he held her tight against him. They stood for a long time, not moving.

  Knowing Laila had changed his life in deeper, more meaningful ways than even dying had, he couldn’t accept that they could lose each other when they had barely even
started their journey together. This couldn’t be the end, yet he was terrified that it was. The thought that this might be the last time he held her made letting her go unthinkable, as much as he knew he had to.

  She tilted her head back from his chest and raised her face. For a few seconds, he gazed at her, amazed all over again at how beautiful she was. Simply looking at her made his head spin.

  He lowered his head, brushed his nose against hers, and touched her lips with his, whispering, “I love you”.

  With a sob, she grasped his face with both hands and pressed her mouth to him. One hand pushed into her silky hair as, cradling her head, he kissed her with his whole body, heart and soul. Her hands gripped his shirt at the back of his neck. Their tongues swept against each other, the kiss fiery, profound, desperate.

  Abruptly she pulled away, dropping back down onto her heels and leaning her forehead against his chest.

  “I love you,” she said. “Whatever happens tonight, you have to know that I will always love you.”

  She stepped back and wiped the tears from her face with one hand. He looked down at her helplessly, wanting more than anything to stop her from leaving, but knowing he couldn’t. For a moment she placed her palm flat onto the centre of his chest. He covered it with his own hand and laid the other onto her chest, over her heart. Her free hand lifted and held it against her and they stood for a few long seconds. Then, taking his hand, Laila turned away and led him back into the living room.

  Kelly and Trish were waiting by the door.

  “Let’s go,” Laila said.

  Denny kept her hand in his as they rode down in the lift. When they reached the door, Trish and Kelly went out first. Laila turned to him and he tilted his head forward, leaning his forehead against hers and closing his eyes.

  “I belong to you,” he said, “always.”

  She stepped back toward the door that Kelly was holding open for her, stretching their arms to full length until their hands slipped apart. Denny felt as though his heart was being ripped from his chest.