The Meridian Gamble

by Garcia, Daniel

  “Saga … why did you go?”

  “What? I didn’t go anywhere. I’m right …”

  “You said you wouldn’t leave.”

  “Was it for love, Saga? Was it for him? The one you love.”

  “Of course it was for the one she loves, silly.”

  “The one she loves.”

  And the girls look to each other and giggle.

  The one I love? What the hell are these brats talking about? It must be Adam, but I’m not quite sure what they mean, or how they know about us. Or maybe I’m just disoriented from having my psychic body transported to another world.

  Their voices have a singsong quality, like they’re maybe elves, or tiny sirens, and it’s sickeningly sweet, yet beautiful at the same time. And I can’t turn away from them. I feel certain that I know them, that maybe I had been a part of that place at one time.

  And a tiny part of me wants to go back.

  The girls seem to sense what I’m thinking, wherever it is that they are.

  “Return to the Realm, Saga. You don’t have to stay there.”

  “What?”

  “Come back to the Golden Realm.”

  “But I don’t know how to go back.”

  “We can help you, silly.”

  And I can feel a subtle shift, the way I had when the energy of the pipe began to pull me into the Astral Plane. The energy of this place, the realm where the two curious girls are playing, begins to pull at me. And though it doesn’t feel evil, there’s something almost sinister about it. Because the place where they come from feels alive, somehow. I can almost feel its intent.

  “Jump. Jump and we’ll bring you back to us. You won’t feel a thing.”

  “Just jump, Saga! Jump!”

  And I shake my head, and turn away, breaking their hold. One mental journey per day is enough, and there’s no way I’m going to go to them. I look back to Adam, and he’s simply staring at me, and doesn’t say a thing. And I get the impression that he hasn’t even heard me talking, that the girls were communicating telepathically, that our conversation took place in my mind.

  When I look back to the canyon, the portal above it is gone. The puffy white clouds roll by in the place where it was, in a way that’s far more majestic than anything I’ve seen in the real world. And it almost makes me feel that they, too, are alive.

  Adam is looking at me, examining my expression, trying to figure out what’s going on.

  “So, you say we’re in the Astral Plane?”

  “Yes, the mental plane, it’s sometimes called. We’re just one step beneath the soul.”

  “It’s weird. It’s like I was looking into another dimension for a moment.”

  “You might have been viewing another plane, one that’s connected to it. There are different levels of reality. Your psychic abilities might be stronger in this place.”

  “As if being here wasn’t strange enough,” I say. “Now can we go inside?”

  “Come on,” he says, with a laugh.

  He leads me into the cottage, and I look around, absolutely fascinated. There’s a kitchen with a dining area, filled with a whitewashed table and chairs. The living room is big, full of overstuffed furniture with white denim slipcovers, like the sofa in my living room, only of a much higher quality. And there’s a fireplace, crackling with burning logs. There’s nothing I love more than sitting in front of a fire that burns from real wood, not a fake gas flame, and the little home is decorated exactly the way I would want it to be. It’s just perfect. And I wonder if this place is Adam’s dream home too, or if he simply doesn’t care about architecture and design, and his subconscious has let mine run wild with the decorations.

  Adam pulls me into an adjacent bedroom, and we fall onto a king-sized bed that rests there, laughing. I don’t even care about the details of our environment anymore, I only care about who I’m with.

  He lies next to me, and rests just a bit on my side. And the feeling of the weight of his body on mine is intoxicating. Adam kisses me sweetly, but regrettably, I push him away.

  “This is weird. It’s really, really weird. What are our bodies doing back in the real world??

  “Pretty much what we’re doing here now. Only in your bed.”

  “I can’t believe that I’m here, Adam. Being with you becomes more curious by the moment.”

  “And I can’t believe that you came back for me.”

  “Have you really been waiting for me all this time?”

  Adam smiles, but it twists into an expression that’s almost a wince.

  “It’s been a long time. But now that you’re here, it feels like it flashed by in a moment.”

  Adam kisses my neck, and slowly slips the dress off my shoulder. He slides his arm beneath the fabric, under my waist. And it feels like it fits there, like he’s a part of me.

  “But what’s going to happen now that I am here? What’s going to happen when they find out who I am?”

  “They’re not going to find out. Because we’re not going to let them. And even if they do, it won’t matter. Because I refuse to let any vampire or Luminos come between us again.”

  I can’t take it anymore, I have to have him. I pull Adam on top of me, and kiss him, hungrily, as if he’s the one who’s about to be devoured. And it’s magical, the way our two bodies seem to meld together.

  And suddenly, everything seems right. It doesn’t matter what monsters or weirdos are chasing after us, because for the moment, we’re safe. And in this place where our minds are connected, all the disappointments and dissatisfactions of the real world seem to slip away. And for once, I feel I’m somewhere that makes sense, like I’m exactly where I belong.

  And the only thing I know is that I never want to leave Adam again. I want to be with him forever.

  Chapter Four: The Tower

  I wake up the next morning, feeling disoriented and confused. And when I look around, my surroundings seem foreign to me. Shouldn’t I be in a cottage filled with whitewashed furniture? Rolling around in a big brass bed with Adam, my … husband? Lover?

  What is he again?

  And then I remember. We’ve only just met, even though it feels like I’ve known him forever, since our bond has been forged over lifetimes. It’s all so confusing.

  I blink my eyes a few times, and it all comes back to me now. This is my apartment in New York, this place filled with cheap, dull brown furniture from Ikea, and a measly full-sized bed. I feel stupid for not realizing it at first. But I’ve felt this kind of confusion before. It’s the same sensation you get when you sink so deeply into a dream that it seems more substantial than the real world. It’s happened to me once or twice, when I’ve dreamt about college and woke up the next day thinking I was late for a final exam I had never studied for, when the only real challenge I had to face was surviving the hours of nine to five at Creative Quorum.

  And I panic for a moment. Was the cottage on the hill all a dream? And was Adam a part of it? Is he a figment of my imagination? My brain is suddenly muddled by the different levels of reality I’ve been passing through, but I realize I can hear water running in the bathroom, and I’m fairly certain it’s not Trevor who’s in there. I’m relieved that it’s Adam washing up inside, and that I’m not having some elaborate psychotic breakdown.

  He comes out with one of my cheap white towels from Target wrapped around his waist, and it’s probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I get a chill of excitement, or perhaps a rush of hormones, just looking at him. The white of the fabric contrasts nicely with his dark hair and the light tan of his skin, and the bit of water dabbled on his chest is just so bloody sexy. I know I’ve seen him naked before, in our big bedroom in the cottage, but this feels like the first time. Our odd rendezvous on the Astral Plane still seems hazy to me.

  But slowly, the memories are coming back in flashes. And I begin to feel flushed.

  I remember rolling about in the big white bed with Adam, kissing him … and more. He peeled off my clothes
, the spectral white dress, and I can see the look he gave in my mind’s eye; Adam stared down at my naked body with a certain thrill telegraphed across his face, that set my heart fluttering. It’s the same expression I must have when I look at him. I recall pulling back the sheets to sneak a peek, and being delighted to find out that he was perfect in every way.

  And a strong memory assaults my psyche, of Adam thrusting himself into me for the first time. I remember crying out in a way that shook the dreamscape, as I experienced pure bliss.

  Even though we’ve been intimate in that strange place, now that we’re back in my apartment, I feel a bit shy. I pull the sheet up around myself, covering my breasts. But that doesn’t stop Adam from coming over, and lying beside me with a playful expression. Just a bit of his weight rests against my body, and his face is just inches from my own. And I feel that wonderful mix of emotions, of being nervous and aroused at the same time.

  “How are you feeling?” he says.

  “I feel great. Fantastic, actually.”

  And I realize that I really mean it, it’s not just some pleasant thing to say. Now that I’ve shaken off the fog of my deep sleep, I’m starting to feel energized and alive. Only, it’s more than just that. I feel super-charged, like I can run a 100-mile marathon. And I don’t care about modesty anymore. I get out of bed and put on my robe, and begin pacing around the room.

  “It’s weird, I feel strong. Like, really strong.”

  I lift up the side of my cheap chest of drawers to test my power, hoping they won’t fall apart. But they only rise an inch or so off the floor, which is probably a bit higher than I could normally lift them. And I suddenly wonder if Adam would want to go to the gym. Or if maybe he’s ready to go another round in bed.

  “You’re feeling the effects of our making love,” Adam says. “No more Astral Plane sex. Next time I need to wear a condom.”

  “Oh God, what do you mean?” I say, sitting down on the bed again, suddenly nervous.

  “Our blood, any of our bodily fluids can theoretically bring about the transformation. But in lesser quantities, they can still have an effect on you. You may feel especially strong or ecstatic, maybe even have trouble sleeping. But the effect shouldn’t last too long.”

  “Are you saying … you have super sperm?”

  He laughs.

  “I suppose you can call it that,” he says. “But even our saliva can have the effect. So we have to limit the French kissing.”

  “Wait a minute, am I going to turn into a vampire?”

  “No, it would take a lot of sex. Like, a lot. And even I don’t have that kind of stamina.”

  “Can I get pregnant?”

  “I could sense if it was that time in your cycle, and it’s not.”

  “But it could happen?”

  “It is possible, but don’t even entertain the notion. It’s not meant to be.”

  Adam looks a bit sad when he says this, and turns away from me. And the sudden break, his coldness, wounds me.

  “It’s all right,” I say, trying to comfort him. “I’m not really the mothering type.”

  But it’s a lie. Even though I barely know him, I’ve already more than fallen for Adam. He’s so dreamy. I can’t keep thoughts of getting married and spending forever with him from spinning about in my mind. I can’t help but to wonder what our children would look like if he was a normal man.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to have a child with you,” he says. “It’s just that it doesn’t work, on so many levels. The fetus won’t make it to term. It will either kill the mother and kill itself, or it will transform her. And the vampire baby will never grow. It’s a ghoulish thing to see. We have to destroy them. And, as I’ve said, I’m not allowed to initiate the change. It would be like handing out a death sentence to the one I love. They would behead you. Maybe both of us.”

  He sounds so serious, and I don’t want to press the issue, or hear any more about freakish vampire babies. And the message is clear, I’m never going to become one of them. But he keeps referring to the idea that he can’t change me, that it isn’t allowed. And though I’m not sure I would ever want to become a vampire, as Saga did, I find it interesting that for some strange reason these mysterious “other vampires” won’t allow it. And it’s clearly because of something he’s done.

  And I’m fairly certain it relates to Saga somehow. But whatever the story is, I assume I’ll find out eventually.

  Adam still seems broody and upset. He’s not even looking at me. So I do the only thing I can think of, which is to pull his face closer and kiss him. I long for any excuse I can think of to touch him again, to press my lips against his, and I’m delighted when it brings a smile to his face.

  And though he seems pleased, it doesn’t have quite the effect I intended. He gets up and picks up his watch from the dresser, checking the time. Adam slips it on, and begins to get dressed.

  “Please don’t hate me, but I’m going to be the typical thoughtless male and rush out the next morning. But it’s only because I have some business to take care of.”

  “Really? I was hoping we could spend some time together today.”

  “I’m sorry. I’d love that, but I’m afraid this can’t be avoided.”

  “Oh. That’s okay, I completely understand.”

  I try to hide the disappointment in my voice, which is easy to do, because I’m distracted by the view before me. Adam drops the towel, and begins putting on his clothes. And I get a clear view of his ass, which makes me smile, in a guilty way. I can’t believe that this incredible specimen is mine, that we’re together, and that I’ll know passion with him again.

  When he has on his shoes and jacket, he comes back to the bed, and sits beside me.

  “I’d like to call you, if I may. Today, before noon. To plan when we can see each other next.”

  “That’s not a problem. You have my number.”

  “Before noon, I promise.”

  Adam kisses me again, in a sweet way that makes me forget any lingering sense of disappointment. And with that, he leaves.

  And when I hear the front door shut, I sigh with frustration. I had imagined myself making love with him all day long, that he would have been my good reason to call out sick from work. But maybe it’s for the best. As much as I hate my job, I’m not quite ready to lose it just yet, certainly not over groveling with vampires.

  And I look to the clock on my dresser, shocked at how late it is. Thank God for the rush of energy making love with him has given me. I jump up and head for the shower, hurrying to get ready.

  Because right now, time is not on my side.

  I’m walking toward the Creative Quorum building, and can see it a block away. By some miracle, I’ve made it here within 20 minutes, a new personal record. And I might even get to work early, which would be nice. It’s silly, but I’ve never been late in all of my six years at the company, and I hate to tarnish my perfect attendance record now. Not that it’s ever done me any good.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jacob Hollander walking along the sidewalk, in close proximity. And I try not to make eye contact, so I don’t have to greet him. From my peripheral vision, I spot the ridiculous teal-colored trench coat he sometimes wears, the one that makes it seem like he’s trying too hard to dress from the pages of GQ. And I can almost see the smug expression that’s perpetually plastered to his face.

  Jacob is a Creative Quorum suit, perhaps the one I hate most, though I’m not sure why. And even worse, he’s poor Staci’s boss, though she finds him more tolerable than I do, perhaps because he so perfectly embodies everything she hopes to achieve, a certain crass level of success. But to me, he’s just another bland, cute guy with more ambition than talent, which is all he really needs to succeed in the world of advertising.

  I remember the day when I first met him, back when I was still a receptionist, and was given the task of filling in for Roy Thompson’s vacationing assistant. Jacob was a former intern who came back to intervie
w for a job working for one of the young vice-presidents in the Creative Division. And he had seemed so fresh-faced and adorable back then, so full of ambition. I escorted him up to the 18th floor for his meeting, and days later, called him up to tell him that Creative Quorum wanted to hire him. Of course, they did. He couldn’t have been more perfect for the company. But back in those days, it had all still seemed so fun, when Staci and I were receptionists and would go to lunch at trendy new places with Jacob and the other assistants. But he quickly climbed the corporate ladder, easily passing us both. And now he’s too good to even acknowledge me in anything more than a cursory way.

  God, as I’m walking through the revolving glass doors to the building, it feels like Jacob is going to step in with me. But at the last moment, he pauses, and goes through the section that spins behind mine. But when we enter the lobby, I inadvertently make eye contact, and I’m forced to acknowledge him.

  “Hey, Jacob,” I mumble.

  “Hey, superstar,” he says, with a fake smile.

  And I groan inside.

  Then I see the little yellow signs on the floor around the elevators, which means that one of them is broken. Which means that Trevor might be lurking around to fix it, which is how I met him in the first place, and the last thing I want is to see that bastard. It feels like a bad omen, to cross paths with someone creepy right as I see the broken elevator signs. I’m hoping it doesn’t mean the day will take a turn for the worse. But I’m not about to let anything get me down.

  Because I feel fantastic.

  It weirds me out, just a bit, to know that it has something to do with Adam and our sexual encounter. But it also gives me a thrill, to think that groveling with my vampire lover can give me an energy boost. It’s like a vitamin B shot … or something.