by P J Gilbers
"So, so, loving, is this spell, so, so omnipotent…Even I am caught in your spell. This is radiating from another plane. From someone who has crossed over and loves you…very, very much. She is extraordinarily beautiful. Long black hair. And I see many colors around her. Was she a painter?”
“You’re describing my mother. Yes. She painted. She has something to do with me now?”
“Oh, yes. She visits you. She is very close to you. People, especially men, will be drawn to you, love you, and want to protect you because of the spell. But the spell is powerful and will affect you as well. "
"She was into astrology and past lives. She had a lot of memories that she felt were past lives. And at night she said she heard spirits. Sometimes it scared her."
"Yes. Yes. I understand. She is with you, protecting you. I am certain she is with us now. He—the devil--is impotent against this power of yours. Do not run my dear. Your place is here and now.”
“What am I supposed to do if I don’t run?”
“You will know the answers. But you must learn to trust yourself, trust others, and draw on the tremendous strength you have. You see only you are going to be able to fight him. Only you. You may have help. But it is your battle. I'm sorry. This is your path.”
“Will I be killed?”
“I cannot see that. I do not know. It is possible. It is up to you I think.”
Natasha's smile was full of caring, fear, and exhaustion.
“It has been wonderful meeting you,” her voice was raspy.
I tried to hand her the money but she pushed it away.
“I have my destiny, too. And you are part of it.”
I gave her a hug and walked out. Outside the sun was shining, just as it had been when I walked in the tiny shop. But everything was different now. I was numb.
I wandered down to the boutique. When I’d left St Louis I’d gotten rid of most of my clothes and brought as little as possible. I had to move fast and light. With the hot weather I was going to need more than sweaters and jeans.
I dropped by the grocer’s and when I was finished it was almost three. I had no idea where the day had gone but I wouldn’t have time to change into my uniform.
Checking for the thread I went into my stifling apartment, put my food away, and rushed out. Halfway to Jack’s I realized I had forgotten to put the thread back. I shivered.
Traffic was heavy as usual but when I pulled up the hill to Jack’s I smiled. He was standing on the porch with his crutches.
“You look better today,” I smiled.
“You look gorgeous. No little uniform.”
“Yes, I’m sorry. Running late. Hope you don’t mind. I can tell the pain is better.”
“Much. I’ve been up and walking quite a bit. Even mastered the stairs.”
“Oh, putting me out of work, eh?”
“Never.” That deep, rattling voice that made me hurt for him.
He walked with me back to the den and dove on the bed.
“Toes are a little dark. Need to get your leg elevated for a while. Today I thought I’d teach you a few exercises. And then I want to see you on the stairs.”
We spent a long time talking as I put him through the exercises.
“So, what would it take for you to go out on a date with me?”
“You’re my patient. I can’t.”
“When I graduate, then you could."
"I don’t plan too far ahead.”
He nodded.
“You are a mystery. And I will unravel it.”
I shook my head. He held my hand. Again.
“I’m just a girl from the mid-west, out here trying to make a new life,” I said.
“What was wrong with the old life?”
I hadn’t expected his question. I looked away.
“Gotcha,” he smiled.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. What time?”
“Four would be good.”
“I need my hand back.”
“I wasn’t finished with it. Stay here, have dinner with me, we’ll snuggle on the bed and watch old movies. I'll let you hold the remote.”
I pulled my hand away.
“See you tomorrow.”
I smiled driving back. But I was worried about getting into my apartment. The thread. The thread that always told me if someone had been there or not. I parked as I did every night but this time I stayed in the car.
And watched.
After an hour I was hot and tired and decided I had to go in. I climbed the steps, pulling my cell phone out, pushing in 9-1.
The apartment was dead silent and just how I’d left it. There was a half wall separating the living room/bedroom from the bathroom. Someone could be in the bathroom and I wouldn’t be able to see him. I decided to leave the front door open, hoping that if Welsh was there someone would hear my screams.
My terror was suffocating. I ran to the bathroom, screaming the whole way, beating on the shower curtain.
Psycho.
The bathroom was empty. The apartment was empty.
My heart slowed.
“Honey, are you okay?” A short, blonde man stood at my door. His hair was moussed, he wore brown eye shadow and mascara and a great shade of lipstick. His shorts were very short and he had on a pink midriff tee shirt. In his arms was a basket of neatly folded laundry.
“I heard you scream. You okay?”
“Yes. Just a spider.”
“Oh, don’t you hate that? I always make my Julio kill them, but he doesn’t like them either. Who does, right, except those bug scientists. I’m Warren. 2G. I saw you move in. Welcome to the Pink Adobe.”
“Hi, I’m Sandra. Nice to meet you.”
“You should come down to the pool tonight. We all get together, barbeque, swim, drink a little. No, that’s a lie. We drink a lot. Anyway, you would be so welcome! You are so pretty!”
“Thanks. I might. I have some work I have to do tonight…”
“On a Friday night?”
I nodded.
“I know, you’re shy, huh? From the Midwest, coming to great big Los Angeles. But, please. Come by. You don’t have to bring anything.”
“Okay, I’ll try to make it. Thank you.”
“Good luck with that spider,” he called as he wiggled down the walk way.
The night dragged by so slowly I thought I’d go insane.
About eight o’clock I made dinner and turned on the television. I was asleep by eleven.
I wasn’t sure why I awoke. Everything was quiet…until the front door handle moved. Just up and down one time. Just a tiny rattle. Just the sound that could mean he was here.
Ted and Gabrielle watched their daughter and the monster hovering outside her door.
Welsh touched her doorknob. Ted shone red eyes into his face scaring him. Welsh left, almost running back to his apartment.
"Ted, what if we can't keep him away?"
"We'll find a way...we'll think of something."
He held his wife and closed his eyes.
Saturday
I was amazed that when I woke it was ten o’clock. I never slept that late. Saturday was my laundry day so I piled my clothes into my old green basket, put quarters in my pocket, and walked downstairs to the laundry. Luckily a machine was open. Doing the physical labor helped slash the images from the night before.
A boy about four came running into the laundry room with a frog.
“Look, lady. I found Curtis. I lost him a yesterdee but now I founded him again. Ain’t he big?”
“He’s wonderful.” I cringed.
“Bye.” He ran out. I laughed. I needed a laugh.
The laundry was finished by one-thirty. Showering was difficult; I kept a knife in the shower with me and always rushed to finish. Going through my closet I found my white halter shirt and taupe pants. It was Saturday. No uniform today.
I dressed, spending more time on my hair than usual. My breathing was irregular, my hands moist, my mouth dry. I felt like I was going on my fir
st date.
"Stop it, Sam. He's your patient," I told the mirror.
"Screw you, I'm going to enjoy this. How many times do you get to see a Jack Nolan?" I answered myself.
Washington, D.C. The ceremony was brief. Senator Ward was officiating, handing out the useless metals. Frank McMorris and Oliver Chamber were officially welcomed out the door. The politically incorrect twosome had come in from the cold.
Oliver took his check and smiled. Frank, on the other hand, stuffed it in his pocket not looking at it. He didn't care. He didn't care about a damn thing.
Immediately following the ceremony the Senator took a call. When he realized who it was he walked back to his office, whispering in Dari Persian. He was smiling as he closed the door.
Southern Afghanistan:
The woman in the white shirt and torn green skirt was being dragged, screaming. No one stepped out to watch. The torturer was hired. And paid well.
Three hours later, she lay nude in the back of an abandoned store.
The American strolled in and began to bathe her gently, giving her water, sweet cakes, opium, and kisses.
"Are you ready to tell me, Boosha? Tell George. You want to tell me. Who had your husband killed that night? You know, don't you? Tell me, because it is important, because you must feel the cold now and you must now my sweet Boosah. Please me, please George."
She tried to spit on him.
"That's okay. Your niece, the little virgin, is here for me now. And my friends."
Boosha sat up and screamed at him.
He learned all he needed to know before he pressed his weapon into her rectum and fired.
He smiled.
"Now, Frank...now I've got you."
At exactly a quarter to four I drove up the driveway to Jack’s. To my surprise there were cars everywhere.
A petit, smiling woman in a maid’s outfit opened the door, gesturing me in.
People were hurrying around the house with trays of food and cases of wine and booze.
Fritz came out of the dining room to greet me. He was wearing a flowered shirt, open, and Chinos instead of his usual black and black.
“At last, my angel has arrived.” He gave me a wonderful hug.
“What on earth is going on?”
“Saturday night. People always tend to drop by. We have a few hors d’oeuvres, a couple of drinks.”
A band started blasting from the back yard.
“A very quiet, low key affair,” he shouted.
“Quiet.” I laughed. “I think I’d better find Jack.”
He bowed and gestured toward the back of the house.
Gabrielle was talking with a group of women and a tall angel. She didn't notice Ted parting the swimming pool and watching below.
He smiled. "A Hollywood party. I like this. Sam, hold still, just a little dash of fairy dust before your mother catches me, darlin'." He sprinkled a generous helping on Sam. It drifted around and several men turned, looking at her hungrily.
"The dancing man, Sam. He's got something. Take charge kind of guy. May be just what you need instead of the pretty boy."
He sprinkled her one more time and closed the pool and his view.
An elegant man, tall, balding, and with a Cheshire cat grin, captured me in the hallway and swirled me around, dipping me almost to the floor.
"My beauty, where have you been all my life?"
“David!” Jack’s voice boomed. “Let loose that woman!”
The man let me go, kissed my hand, and walked out to the pool.
Jack looked charcoal hot, his black shirt open, his jeans were low on his hips. I confess I desperately wanted to touch that chest and belly.
“Looks to be a very happy night. I’ll introduce you later. You look so damn sexy. Good Lord woman, I could eat you up with cranberry sauce. Come on. Let’s go to the office. It’s relatively quiet back there.”
He bounded into the office, taking large, noisy strides on his crutches.
“Sit down by the recliner. I put a decent chair over there for you. What do you want to drink? How about an Ice Tea? Long Island style.”
“Trying to get me drunk, eh? I fell for that in college. Fell is exactly right. Passed right out in a bowl full of linguine. Although my face was incredibly smooth the next morning. That wonderful olive oil I guess. A lot of Italian restaurants in St. Louis.”
“I thought you were from Kansas City.” He had an 'aha grin'.
“Oh, I am. 'Went to school in St. Louis. How can we do your therapy with all of this chaos?”
I looked at his toes.
“They’re bad. Very, very bad. You’re not keeping them elevated. That ankle’s got no chance of healing if you’re abusing it like that," I scolded. "But I see you’re walking much better.”
“Yes, and yes.”
“Perhaps I should come back Monday.”
I was irritated. I had driven all this way.
“I must insist that you stay for the party. “
“I must insist I’m not dressed for a party.”
He laughed.
“There will be all kinds of dress tonight, sweetheart, including, I guarantee you, some un-dress. Always is. But, I can tell you with all certainty that you’re perfect. You’re absolutely perfect.” His voice was low, like a simmering volcano, and I could feel it vibrate through the wide floor boards, right into my soul.
“I’m sorry but I absolutely can’t stay…Now sit down. Foot up. I’ll get the frozen peas.”
I made my way through the crowd to the kitchen. The dancing man grabbed me again. I didn't put up a serious fight. He was adorable, fascinating, and funny.
“You must let me put you in the movies. My dear you are spectacular.”
I looked at the bouncing round female bodies in the crowd.
“Seems to me you have many more--and better--options to choose from out there. I’m only a B cup and I have lots more clothes on.”
“As far as clothes, I like presents still wrapped, don’t you?” He straightened the lapel of my shirt, caressing my cheek. “Makes life much more exciting. What is your wonderful, magnificent name?”
I swallowed hard. “Samantha Rose.”
He held the freezer door open for me.
“That is the name of a star. A star who likes lots of peas. Lots and lots of peas.”
I laughed, dropping a bag.
“These are for Jack.”
“A new diet? God, he’s buff enough as it is.”
“I use them with my orthopedic patients. As ice bags. Easier than getting ice all the time and the little peas roll around, conform, more comfortable.”
“You are incredibly clever. Talented. I have to get you in the movies. My name is David. I’m so fun and…well, I’ll have to show you the rest.” He wrote his number in my hand. “Day or night. Night or day. Call me.” He kissed my hand and bowed. His eyes were dancing.
I worked on Jack's leg and he introduced me to people as they wandered in and out. He held my hand the entire time. I didn't want to leave.
But time was my enemy.
I raced back to the apartment just as the skies darkened, the safety of the light gone again.
Sunday
When I woke up I heard kids laughing and looked out my small, dingy window.
It was the little boy with the frog and two other kids in the pool. A voice in my head kept telling me to go play, go swimming, have some fun.
I made it to the pool, hid my keys under my towel, and got in. The water was sublime. At first I floated but I kept getting hit with a beach ball so I threw it back. The kids laughed. I was a player. I was in. Me and my possie.
I went back to my apartment and showered.
Traffic was light, I sang the whole way.
All the cars from the night before were gone from Jack's driveway.
It was silent.
I knocked.
No answer.
Knocked again.
Again.
“Coming!”
I heard Jack thumping around.
“Take your time!”
Finally he opened the door. He was wearing a striped oxford shirt and jeans. For once his shirt was buttoned.
His hair was dripping.
“Just got out of the tub. Sorry. We’re just about the only ones here.”
I followed him down the hall to the den. He sat in his wheelchair playing with the wheels.
"Now, in bed, let’s do some exercises. And no wisecracks.”
I helped him get on his stomach, which meant I had to get in bed next to him to work.
Suddenly I lost my balance on the soft mattress, falling.
He leaned over and looked at me only inches from my face.
He smiled. “Well, well, well. Look what I found. How did Santa know I’d been wanting this in my bed?”
He slowly bent and kissed me. Warmth spread up and down like lightning. I wanted to hold onto that kiss and never let it slip away. The world disappeared around us and I had never wanted any man as much in my entire hungry life.
I touched his lips, he kissed my fingertips.
I whispered, “Jack, I can’t…you’re…”
“Your patient, I know.” He kissed me again, deeper, hotter and I tried not to moan but failed miserably. The kiss went on for hours, maybe days. I rose up to him.
“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on with you?”
He lay on his side and looked into my eyes. Stroking my cheek he let me feel what I could have. At any second. If only …
“Something’s wrong. That’s clear. I can help you, Sam.”
“Thanks, but no one can help." A single tear escaped. He touched it, looking sad, kissing me again. My hand slipped around his neck.
I rolled away and stood up.
"See you tomorrow.”
I had forgotten the terror, the problems, for just those blast oven hot moments. I apologized, leaving before any more emotions could talk me out of going out that door.
Monday
I was at Harold’s house when my phone rang. It was Stella. “New referral. Can you take it? It’s close to where you are now. Seventeen year old male, partial spinal cord tear, C5-6.”