Flashback

by Dawn Carter

  It had been over from the start; Natalie just needed to admit it to herself. She had realized there was no longer a reason to hold on. She had not heard the smile in Spencer’s voice for so long, she had forgotten what it sounded like. To hear her now, it was like someone had punched her in the stomach.

  I never made you happy. I wasn’t enough for you. That, or I’m not her. I hope you find what you’re looking for, Spencer.

  She took one last look, hoping to get a glance of her face, but the man hadn’t moved. With a heavy sigh, she tiptoed to the door.

  ●●●

  Eyes closed while the mix of pain and pleasure burned her skin, Spencer could feel Natalie, and in that moment, she opened her eyes and looked around. No one was there, but she could feel her presence and the closure that followed. That was strange, she huffed, closing her eyes once more.

  “We’re done for the night.” Terry’s voice pulled Spencer from her thoughts. “We’ll finish the amulet next week, once this heals.”

  Confused over why they weren’t finishing now, she lifted her shoulders and hands in a questioning motion. “Okay?” Just then, she heard the door slam shut.

  “We’re closed for the night,” Terry called over his shoulder, then turned back to Spencer. “I’m exhausted, Spencer. I barely slept over the last week, preparing for my tests, and my eyes are burning. I don’t want to mess this piece up.”

  A little disappointed, Spencer half grinned as she looked into the mirror to view how much Terry had already completed. “Got you, I understand. Oh, Terry, this looks amazing.” Spinning around, she saw how tired her artist was, and felt bad. “Go on, then. Get some rest. I’ll call you at the end of the week and make our next appointment.” Her eyes found the mirror once more, and the new ink caused her breath to catch in her throat. It was perfect in every way. The only thing lacking was the pendant that hung from the center.

  He took several steps and stretched his tired back. “How about we just do the same time next week.”

  “That sounds good.” She paused and looked back at her reflection. “How about I treat you to a drink? We can go to the bar down the street.”

  ●●●

  Terry rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “I’m pretty tired, but I’ll take a rain check. You can call me during the week, and we can go then.” He’d become accustomed to Spencer calling and picking his brain. He was not a lot of help, but he had learned about a young princess that sounded a lot like the one Spencer had described, who had died young. He had also learned there were no female heirs to produce an heir, so the King had forced the chambermaid to fill his daughter’s role of producing an heir. The trail of information had ended when the king and his brother mysteriously died, and Queen Anairena disappeared.

  Spencer seemed to find the information important, and he understood when she spoke of Anai and the King, and how she had taken her own life. He had always wondered if there was truth in reincarnation, but now he had no doubt. He was Spencer’s teacher, but she was teaching him so much more.

  Chapter 7

  Walking through the parking lot of the strip mall, Spencer’s senses appeared to be heightened. Different smells she had not noticed before filled her nostrils. The way the women ahead of her walked gave her pause. She had not noticed much outside of her dream world for so long, it took this for her to realize she’d lost sight of the things around her.

  It was the strangest things that grabbed her attention now. Earlier, while leaving the grocery store, she’d spotted the familiar face of a woman, not much older than herself, who she’d dated while in college. The affair didn’t last long, but Spencer learned so much during their time together. She had been a new lesbian back then, and the girl had become her teacher, taking her places she had never been.

  Seeing her now instantly aroused Spencer. The woman hadn’t changed, she still had the heart-shaped ass that jiggled and swayed. Spencer recalled how amazing the sex had been, and wondered why it had ended. In her mind, it was yesterday that her hands had caressed between Tammy’s legs, causing her hips to buck. For no reason that Spencer could recall, they had went their separate ways. It would be so easy to fall back into old habits, Spencer inwardly laughed, slowing her pace, maintaining the distance between them, hoping Tammy wouldn't notice.

  Spencer enjoyed the view; she liked the way Tammy’s short, brown hair was gelled and teased perfectly around her perfect, little ears. The flowing white shirt, cut inches above the revealing tight pants, showed just enough skin, adding to her arousal. For the first time in months, Spencer’s body was alive. It was not just the enticing Tammy that had woken her libido. Spencer had noticed that once she was in an attractive woman’s personal space, her scent, the way she moved, the tantalizing look in her eyes, was what drew her in. However, as easy as it would be to have sex with any woman who offered themselves, there was only one for her.

  Lowering her gaze to the ground, Spencer sighed. She wondered if it was her selfishness that had caused the sadness that filled Anai’s eyes. Refusing to marry her uncle, Yiara had left her kingdom without a queen or the hope of an heir. Spencer didn’t understand why guilt wracked her now; it had happened so many lifetimes ago, but her actions had caused a domino effect, and it made her sick to know that Anai had been forced into marriage to a man, not just any man, but her uncle, the same man she had defied by taking her own life.

  Later that evening, sitting at her desk, Spencer pulled out a small box from the left side drawer. Blinking a few times, she opened the small velvet box within, and placed it on the hard surface. Everything in her life seemed to be a series of coincidences. For some reason unknown to Spencer at the time, when passing a pawnshop, she had been drawn in. Within moments, her eyes had narrowed in on a ring, encased in the glass. A serpent, curled in a ball, supported a bluish-purple gemstone that she was unfamiliar with. She had laughed, what would I do with that? Yet, as much as she tried to walk away, she was drawn back to the unknown force of the sparkling object.

  That was four years ago. Spencer had purchased the ring that day, brought it home, and put it in the drawer, where it had been ever since. Every now and then, she would pull it from its spot and stare at it blankly.

  Light from the moon shining through the window illuminated the room. Spencer stretched back, folded her arms behind her head, and looked down over her notably slim, but curvy body. Aroused, she rubbed against the inside of her shirt over the split between her flat stomach and the waist of her jeans. Mmm, she moaned, sliding her fingers into her pants. She could still feel the orgasm that had accompanied her into her awakened state, a day prior.

  Her eyes darkened with desire as she stroked the length of her center. “Oh, God.” The image of her dream woman imprinted in her mind. “I will make you mine, if I ever find you. Oh yes,” she cried, as the tingling sensation between her legs exploded, all her thoughts thrown into oblivion.

  ●●●

  During the week that followed, a new set of priorities set Spencer on a mission. She searched through library books, maps of Egypt, and names of possible locations of tombs that had been excavated. After one more session with Terry, she would be free to book her flight and travel abroad. She had no idea what she would find once she was there, but anything would be better than what she already had. Which was only a name, a face from the past, and the hopes that her future would be intertwined with her past love in real life.

  ●●●

  Her right hand stretched out, holding the mirror a few inches in front of her, as Terry asked, “Are you excited?”

  “Oh, my gosh, Terry, it’s done, it looks great.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “Thank you.”

  Terry pulled back and eyed his masterpiece. In a husky voice filled with sadness, he asked, “When are you leaving?”

  “In about three weeks. I have to pack up my personal stuff in the loft, and put in my extended leave at work. I’ve found someone who has agreed to sublease while I’
m gone.”

  “You seem to have it all worked out. How long are you planning on being there?”

  “I don’t know. I booked a one-way trip for now. The sublease is for six months, and my parents will give me my job back when I return.”

  Terry grimaced. “How did you arrange that?”

  “I lied to them.” A thin line stretched her lips. “I told my mom and dad I was using this time to utilize my education degree, and volunteer to teach children.”

  Leaning to one side, he furrowed his brow, his left hand on his hip, his right hand waving in front of him. “Why aren’t you teaching?”

  Spencer laughed as she explained that once the ‘No child left behind act’ had taken effect, the teachers were no longer teaching the children; they were instead being treated like monkeys to push what the government thought the children needed to learn. As much as she wanted to one day be an educator, she wasn’t willing to conform like that.

  Chapter 8

  The heat from the scorching sun burned against her skin as they crossed the desert sand to a shelter fifty yards away. It was worth it if it meant prying eyes wouldn’t interfere with the few intimate moments they could steal.

  Yiara quivered as her fingers caressed the tender flesh of Anai’s lips. Leaning in, she felt hot breath mingling with her own. Moving her hand along Anai’s curves, she released the straps that held the kalasiris, the traditional linen dress of Ancient Egypt. Slowly, it slid down, until it landed on the sandy surface, around her feet.

  “Don’t stop, my Queen.” The tone of Anai’s voice sounded more like a cry. The aroma of her skin went to Yiara’s brain, intoxicating, rich, and welcoming. Then, with a steady gaze, she lowered her mouth, bruising Anai’s with her own.

  As their lips connected, Yiara breathed in her essence, and filled Anai with her fingers. It was not about having or giving an orgasm; it was in these moments that they connected, becoming one. Each time was like the first time, when their sensitive skins touched. It would send shivers throughout her body, and her heart would ache for it to never stop.

  Spencer’s dream suddenly changed. Just as their hands intertwined, the wind picked up, causing the sand to swirl around them. Yiara looked around, panicked as she was lifted into the air, and into her chamber, landing with a hard thump on the hard surface of the floor. In the distance, like a bad, replayed movie, she watched as Anai screamed over her shoulder, hands flying in the air as she was forced from the city.

  “Anai! Anai!” Yiara called, holding her arms outstretched.

  From the haze of panic, Spencer opened her eyes. She was no longer in the desert looking on as her heart was being torn from her chest. Instead, she was back in her plane seat, rows of seats in front and beside her. She looked to her right, and turned her head when the woman in the next row asked if she was okay. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Spencer looked out of the window, dismissing conversation. She was not okay – her heart ached, she felt as if she was dying.

  “I’m coming, Anai,” she whispered.

  She was used to the dreams, but over the past month they had become more intense; so much so, Spencer thought she would go out of her mind. She used to be able to shake them off, but now they clung to her, heavy, leaving her even more exhausted.

  Trying hard to forget the latest dream, she took a deep breath and looked out over the sea of clouds. She smiled. Beautiful. It looked like a large bowl of whipped cream, and just beneath, was her favorite, butter pecan ice cream. In the soft light, Spencer tuned into the noises around her as if they were an auditory jigsaw puzzle. Still unnerved by her dream, each noise reminded her of the sacred place in her dreams that she had just left.

  From the window of the plane, she watched the semi-illuminated engine on the wing, the lower half shining around the rim, the upper half several shades darker. As the plane dipped between the shadows and the light, her eyelids became heavy once more.

  A voice overhead announced that dinner would soon be served. She opened her eyes a moment later, when the stewardess moved down the aisle, stopping long enough to hand trays to the passengers.

  Spencer grimaced as the woman across from her seat stared at the tray, looking as if she was going to heave. The contents on the plate looked dry, as if they had been reheated one too many times. She cringed as the stewardess retrieved another tray and handed it to her. Disgusted, she looked down, noticing the portions were no bigger than child-size, and smelled as bad as they looked. Pushing the tray forward, she reached into the pocket of her sweater to retrieve the protein bar she’d purchased while waiting for her flight. As she opened it, her nose perked as a pleasant, inviting aroma filled her nostrils. Pulling herself to her feet, she moved along the aisle, following the scent, and from the other side of the curtain she saw happy passengers drinking from wine glasses and cutting into edible portions of meat. Spencer huffed and looked over her shoulder to the sad offerings awaiting her.

  She knew when she’d paid for ‘cattle class’—a term she used for low class seating—she’d get what she paid for.

  “Ma’am.” A voice came from behind her. “You have to go back to your seat.”

  Spencer spun around and dug in her pocket. “What do I have to pay to get what they’re eating?”

  The stewardess smiled and tilted her head to the side for Spencer to follow her. “I have an extra plate if you want it, but it’ll cost you fifteen dollars.”

  Pulling the money from her pocket, she stuffed it into the woman’s hand and took the tray. “Oh, what does a girl have to do to get a glass of wine?”

  “Red or white?”

  Over her shoulder, Spencer replied, “white,” then turned and looked at the woman and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  After the meal, she glanced at her watch; they were still three hours out. Spencer leaned back into her seat and let out a frustrated breath. The rest of the plane ride was going to be excruciating. She was anxious, frustrated, and had the attention span of a toddler. Nothing she did made her comfortable. She squirmed in her seat several times, unable to sleep. She needed to keep her mind busy, so pulled a book from her satchel. After reading several pages and not comprehending a word, she closed it, placed it in her lap, and tried to focus on the in-flight movie. As much as she tried, she could not get into the movie because the woman in the row across from her wouldn’t shut up. In fact, she’d been talking throughout the flight to anyone who would listen, and the woman’s whiney voice sent shivers up and down Spencer’s arms.

  The stewardess had politely asked her to keep her voice down several times, but she would only be quiet for a few moments and then start back up again. Annoyed, Spencer held the book in her hand and waved it in the air.

  “Ma’am, can you please shut up, I’m trying to read, and I cannot hear my own thoughts.”

  Rolling her eyes, the woman shot Spencer a dirty look, then turned her head.

  Finally, it was quiet. The annoying, curly-headed brunette put her head back and closed her eyes.

  ●●●

  Still on American time, which was six hours later than what her watch showed, and feeling jet lagged, Spencer steadied her feet along the dark stretch of sidewalk in front of the hotel Cairo Moon. She looked up at the building. It wasn’t the Ritz or the Hilton, but it did have great ratings, offered affordable, long-term accommodations, and was near public transportation in the center of Cairo.

  Once in the large room, she looked around. It was adorned by a large bed against a wall, a small desk near an open window, a couch, and a flat screen television supported by brackets on the wall. At the other end of the room was a small kitchenette. It reminded her of a loft one of her friends lived in back in Chicago, but a lot bigger.

  With a chuckle, she placed her suitcase and shoulder bag on the floor, then spun around and fell backward onto the bed. She was finally in Egypt, the place where her dreams originated.

  I’m here, now it’s time to get to the truth.

  ●●●

  The
next day she walked along a narrow, cobbled street, surrounded by shops on her left and right. Handmade brass ‎artifacts shone under the hue of spotlights in the night. Old vendors warmly smiled at her, ‎motioning her over to see their goods. A man held up a Tabla, an Egyptian drum, and tapped his hand ‎against the length of the instrument, playing a tone customarily performed at weddings. Then he ‎joked with her about how a pretty girl like her should already be married. Spencer smiled, ‎knowing he was trying to flatter her into buying the instrument.

  As she walked, she hoped she would feel or see something familiar, to no avail. She was new to this country, and didn’t know what to do or where to go. It was hot, and the further she walked, the more the heat burned against her skin. She tried to walk in the shade, but the heat could not be avoided. Along the stretch of road, she continued to gaze into shop windows. The vendors pointed at her, and whispered as she passed. A few yards ahead, walking toward her, was a young lady dressed in traditional clothing, everything covered except for her bright yellowish eyes. I could get lost in those, Spencer inwardly laughed.