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"You promise not to talk to any dead people?"
"I promise," Sara a.s.sured her, laughing. "I'm just gonna sit back and enjoy the show."
Liz released a loud sigh of defeat. "Well, just be careful," she warned, conceding in the end, just as Sara had known she would.
Sara herself hadn't a single misgiving about going; in fact, she was looking forward to it. She was delighted to have been included, but she was also rather intrigued to see what would happen.
On the night of the event, the atmosphere among the women-there were nine of them altogether-was alive with curious excitement. The women giggled sporadically at the smallest provocation, causing a chain reaction of nervous t.i.ttering throughout the room. Sara saw that the women from her office were already cl.u.s.tered into their own little group. One of them noticed her and excitedly gestured for her to join them.
"Hey! h.e.l.lo," they chirped enthusiastically. Apparently Sara was not as invisible at the office as she thought.
"I never would have figured you for the type to be into this," Becky from Data Entry told her.
"Well, it sounded like fun," she replied, remaining neutral. She didn't want to insult anyone who actually believed in such things, but on the other hand, she didn't want them to think she was some kind of a nut, either.
"You're going to be amazed!" said Pam from Accounting. "I've been to a bunch of these before, but this woman is truly gifted."
Sara wore an impressed expression. "That's what I heard." She looked at Mich.e.l.le, the receptionist, who only smiled shyly.
"I'm just here out of curiosity," she admitted with a little laugh.
"Okay, ladies," came a strong voice from the front. "If you'll all gather around the table and be seated, we're about to begin."
"Come on," Becky said to Sara. "You'll sit with us." There was an excitement in her voice that was catching. Sara's skin p.r.i.c.kled with antic.i.p.ation.
The clairvoyant's name was Margaret but she encouraged everyone to call her Maggie. She began with a rather long explanation of the spirit world and her philosophies about it. She had a careworn, almost pained look about her that added to her semblance of authenticity. She spoke of the spirit world as if it were more real than the one they were currently residing in.
Sara listened to Maggie skeptically. Everything she had been taught within the confines of her religious background-even those teachings she had rejected-rushed through her mind, contradicting each and every a.s.sertion the clairvoyant made. Maggie was explaining that the spirits she spoke to were actually people who had lost their earthly form, but still remained tied to Earth. Some were waiting for the right time to take on another life-form, while others simply chose to stay in the spirit realm. She compared them to angels-guardian angels-and claimed that they looked after the living. She explained that a spirit's connections with the people they left behind remained strong, although their interest in worldly concerns had, for the most part, disappeared. They had no thoughts for earthly or material things. This was why, Maggie claimed, they had such difficulty remembering names, and often attempted to identify people with only a letter from the alphabet. Sara had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes when Maggie concluded by adding that the letter a spirit gives her could apply to a first, middle or last name of a person. Well, that sure makes it easy for you, Sara thought to herself.
"While many of you will want me to find out if your loved ones are doing all right," Maggie continued, "the reality is that they come to me to offer you help, and ensure that you are all right."
Maggie claimed the spirits were gathering around her at that very moment. She asked the women to be patient with her when she appeared distracted as the spirits were constantly speaking to her.
Sara was becoming more and more anxious for Maggie to get on with it. But before she began, she lit a candle and said a short prayer.
Almost immediately after saying "Amen," Maggie singled out one of the women at the table.
"You," she said pointing. "What's your name?"
"Francesca," was the nervous reply.
"Francesca," she repeated. "There's a spirit here who is quite anxious to talk to you." Francesca's eyes grew wider. Maggie tilted her head to one side as if she were listening intently. "He keeps saying, 'Ladybugs. Ask her if she remembers the ladybugs.' He's giving me the letter E."
All the color drained from Francesca's face. She answered in a shaky whisper, "After my grandmother..." she looked around the room at all of the women as she emphasized the next word "...Elizabeth died, my grandfather and I went out and collected ladybugs. My grandmother loved ladybugs." Tears filled her eyes, but she laughed at the memory. She looked at Maggie again. "It seemed like I kept seeing ladybugs right after Grandpa died, too," she told her.
"That was him," Maggie confirmed. "He's telling me that he always sends ladybugs when he wants to get your attention."
Francesca laughed. "Is he...Has he seen Grammy?"
"He says they're together and they both love you. They're always with you, he's saying." Maggie smiled at her. "He wants you to be sure and always keep an eye out for the ladybugs."
Sara turned to look at Becky and the two stared meaningfully at each other for a moment, communicating their mutual amazement at what they just witnessed. It was quite extraordinary, and yet Sara wondered if it could have been staged.
But as Maggie worked her way around the table, it seemed that she always. .h.i.t upon some link, or unearthed some undeniable and distinct tie that the person had shared with a loved one who had pa.s.sed.
As Sara watched these proceedings, she wavered back and forth in her impressions-one minute convinced that Maggie was really communicating with the dead and the next wondering if she wasn't actually just making some very good a.s.sumptions based on the information she had gleaned from each of the women. She found herself critiquing the details that Maggie brought forth. Were they specific enough, or could they apply to anyone? She couldn't deny that some of the details were so specific that there was no disputing their validity. At one point, Maggie turned to one of the women and said, "Who's Amanda?" When the girl, taken aback, replied nervously that it was her best friend, Maggie, without even missing a beat, continued. "Could you please tell her that her aunt wants her to make up with her mother?"
Sara, like the rest of the women in the room, could not help but gasp in amazement.
"I'm only repeating what they tell me," Maggie kept saying.
Sara suddenly began to wonder what Maggie would come up with when her turn rolled around. Other than a few distant relatives that she had barely even known, there wasn't anyone in her life who had died.
Sara's heart felt as if it were going to leap from her chest when Maggie's gaze finally came around the table and settled on her.
"Jimmy," Maggie said, staring at her with an expectant look.
Sara felt her face heat up as she searched her memory for a Jimmy. A feeling of panic swept over her when she failed to locate one. She had never known anyone named Jimmy before in her life. She wondered if she should make something up. She shook her head, confused. "I...don't know any Jimmy," she said uncertainly. "Is it...Could it be someone I'm about to meet?"
"He's standing right beside you," Maggie said. "He's telling me that he came here to see you."
Sara felt an unreasonable sense of culpability for not knowing who Jimmy was. She looked at the clairvoyant apologetically. "I'm sorry...I don't know who it could be," she stammered.
"Mmm." Maggie turned her head sideways and was thoughtful a minute. "He's telling me you're kindred spirits."
Sara stared at Maggie. "I don't know what that means," she said.
"He's saying, 'We move in the same circles,'" Maggie continued, undaunted. "He wants me to tell you that he's looking out for you now and that you're going to be all right. He says you've had some pretty big changes in your life lately, involving 'R.' Whose name begins with an R? He's telling me that 'R' has uprooted your life, but that it will be all right. He keeps saying, 'Now, it will be all right.' Have you had any big changes recently?"
Sara stared at Maggie in disbelief. She could feel a tingling sensation working its way up the middle of her back like an icy finger as the light, feathery hairs on her skin stood up in alarm.
"I...moved here a few months ago and just started a new job." There were murmurs of acknowledgement that these were, indeed, big changes.
"Was there anyone else involved in this move?" Maggie encouraged.
"Yes," replied Sara, stealing quick glances around the table at the amazed expressions of the women. "I came out here to live with my boyfriend, R-Ray." There were sharp intakes of breath all round the table.
"Jimmy keeps insisting that Ray is not the right man for you," Maggie said. Her blunt words only served to give her statement more credibility. "I'm just the messenger here," she added. "I simply repeat what they tell me." Even she seemed a little surprised by what she had just said.
Sara was stunned. Hers was the first spirit to convey such a negative message. Relatives, lovers and friends had all come forth with words of wisdom, comfort and love, but here was the spirit of someone she didn't even know giving her this piece of news, and in front of everyone, no less. She didn't know what to say. She felt a hand squeeze hers under the table and she looked up to see that it was Becky's. To her chagrin, tears were filling her eyes.
Thankfully, Maggie was already moving on to the next spirit. The women laughed at something Maggie was saying, but Sara couldn't concentrate on what was being said. She went through the motions, mirroring the responses of those around her for the rest of the reading, but she didn't hear another word. She was brooding about what Jimmy had said about Ray.
A sense of foreboding came over her. She had been so certain that she had gotten it right this time. Why else would she have uprooted her whole life to be with Ray? She had never been this sure about a man before. And she was so happy with him. They did nothing but laugh all the time that they were together, and she loved being with him. Everything was going so well.
She thought about their s.e.x life and immediately brushed the thought aside. It was just that he loved her so much, she a.s.sured herself. He was so excited when he was with her that he couldn't control himself. That was a good thing, right? It meant that he was attracted to her. Anyway, what did that matter? Life was about more than just s.e.x.
She tried to rid herself of the feeling of dread, but it seemed to have settled into her bloodstream like a poison. Again and again she reminded herself that the source of this supposed knowledge was a woman who spoke to dead people! How could she possibly let that affect her?
But it had affected her and Sara left the little gathering feeling as if she had been infected with something truly awful.
When she got home, she rushed into Ray's arms and immediately felt better. How ridiculous it seemed all of a sudden to let someone else-especially a false prophet, as her mother would have called the woman-predict your future! Sara clung to Ray, delighting in his warmth and goodness, and in that moment she was truly grateful for the teachings of her youth. Thank heavens she had the good sense to distinguish what was real from what was not.
As she examined Ray throughout the rest of that night, his look, his manner, everything about him was all that she had ever wished for. She could find no fault with him even when she tried.
By the time they went to bed that night, Sara was laughing at herself. She could not believe she had allowed herself to be affected that way. When Ray reached for her, she pulled him to her almost violently, clutching his hair in her fingers and spreading kisses all over his face. He immediately responded, delighting in her enthusiasm. She wanted him so much-needed him, even-that she was actually ready for him when he straightaway moved in between her legs and began making love to her. She clung to him eagerly, forgetting all of her earlier concerns as the desire escalated into a yearning she couldn't remember ever feeling before. It felt so good to have Ray filling her. The feel of him, so strong and hard, had all of her senses quivering with awareness. Losing herself in the sensations, she began undulating her hips beneath him. She abandoned all awareness but the pleasure. She could feel it building steadily as she mindlessly ground her hips against him.
With a low moan, Ray suddenly released himself inside her. Sara almost swore out loud, her disappointment was so profound.
"That was incredible," he said, covering her face with kisses.
But a short while later, when Sara was cradled in the warmth of Ray's arms, just like every other night, she reminded herself how fortunate she was to have a man as kind and sweet as Ray. She thought of the many things he did for her, listing them one by one as she waited for sleep. The surprise dinners, the sight of him outside chopping wood to keep a fire in the grate, the random love notes he left behind when he left for work-all of these were what made a relations.h.i.+p good. Sleep was a long time in coming, but she was content by the time she found it. A little smile played at the edges of her lips as she drifted off.
But after a while, the smile left Sara's lips and her brows furrowed in consternation. She turned her head from side to side and flailed her arms in an effort to push something away from her. She appeared to be having a vivid dream.
Sara's breathing became irregular. She was being kissed pa.s.sionately-more pa.s.sionately than she had ever been kissed before. Hands were moving over her body, exploring every inch of her. She responded to the kisses instinctively, sighing and moaning quietly as she became more and more aroused. The hands seemed to be everywhere at once, apparently trying to discover her through touch. Every now and again a finger brushed over her c.l.i.toris, and she whimpered when it moved away. She appeared to be agitated, as if her arousal were giving way to frustration.
Very slowly, in parts, she began to rouse from her sleep.
She lifted her arms and wrapped them around him. She had never known Ray to wake up and ravish her like this in the middle of the night before, but she was pleased. His skin felt cool to her touch and she let her hands roam over him. He continued to caress her as if he were touching her for the very first time. She moaned again as he reached between her legs and cupped his hand over her mound, clutching her firmly while one finger slid up in between and stroked her exactly how she liked.
Her hips began to rock lightly back and forth. She was surprised and delighted that he didn't appear to be in a hurry to climb on top of her, seeming content to simply please her. He kept teasing and tantalizing her with his finger while holding her securely in his hand. He stroked her skillfully, knowingly, and she absently wondered why he hadn't done this before. He was giving her more pleasure with his fingers than he had ever given her when they made love. Her arousal was calling her out of her sleep.
But something wasn't quite right. As Sara slowly became more conscious, even in her high state of arousal, she was becoming more and more aware of something being off, or different-something wrong. She came to this realization gradually, reluctantly, not really wanting to let go of the tremendous desire that was building up in her and yearning to be fulfilled. Another little whimper escaped her lips, this time of regret and disappointment.
"Shhh," she heard him whisper. "Just enjoy it, baby."
He held her even more firmly and his finger became more forceful and determined. His lips descended on hers once again, even more pa.s.sionately, almost violently. She was temporarily distracted by the urgency of his response. She moaned, clutching him closer yet. He devoured her lips, sending new thrills through her.
But Ray had never ravished her like this.
And she could hear, in the background, quite clearly, actually, what she recognized suddenly to be Ray's light snoring.
There was another man making love to her in their bed!
With a sudden cry, Sara pressed her hands against the imposter's chest, but he was strong and held his ground.
"Quiet!" he told her. "Just let me satisfy you." But it was not Ray's voice that addressed her. She wasn't even sure that it was a voice. The sound seemed to be coming from inside her head!
"No!" she cried, struggling against him, and in the very next instant he was gone.
Sara sat up and reached for the lamp on her bedside table, frantically switching on the light.
"Wh...What's the matter?" Ray asked, waking suddenly and squinting his eyes against the sudden flood of light.
Sara looked all around them. There was no sign of anyone else in the room. She bent over the edge of the bed and looked underneath. There was no one there. But she had known there wouldn't be. Whatever it was had disappeared in a single instant. It had not moved away from her. It had dissolved.
"What is it?" Ray asked again.
"Nothing," Sara managed in a strangled voice. "I had a dream. Go back to sleep."
She switched off the light, trembling, her desire nearly forgotten.
Was it a dream? She couldn't believe that it was. It felt so real. But wasn't that what everyone said about their dreams?
Yet it had remained with her, even after she woke. It had continued to touch and even talk to her. Characters in a dream did not follow you out of it when you woke up. They didn't struggle with you and try to quiet you.
But then, what else could it have been?
Her mind flashed back to the clairvoyant and the spirit who had supposedly spoken to her. Jimmy, was it? She could hear her mother's sanctimonious voice, cautioning her on the dangers of demon possession. She instantly rejected the thought. But she was suddenly cold all over, and a harsh shudder cut through her. Were there really such things as spirits and demons? Had she somehow exposed herself to potential evil simply by going to see a clairvoyant? Her mind balked at the possibility, but she remained uncertain.
Ray's breathing indicated that he had fallen back asleep.
Sara turned her thoughts to him and, as always, it had a calming effect on her. Her life with him, in the here and now, was what she believed in. He had resumed his gentle snoring and it eased her rattled nerves to listen to it. She thought about the man that Ray was, so kind and loving and reliable. And real. She tried to conjure up that feeling of happiness she felt in first coming here to live with him. After a while, the shock of whatever it was that had happened-she was beginning to think it really was all just a very realistic dream-faded, and she eventually drifted back to sleep.
Slowly, subtly and ever so gently, the hands began to once again make their way over Sara's body. They came as if out of nowhere, just lightly tracing over her skin at first, soothingly stroking her, subduing her with their tender influence. As she began to respond, the hands grew bolder, caressing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s possessively, cupping and fondling them, and even playfully pinching and pulling at the tips. Moving lower, they groped between her legs, a.s.sertively exploring the rest of her body. For the third time that night, the desire curled up within Sara, meandering in and around her insides, sharp and insistent.
Her breathing increased as the fingers began to once again work their magic, lightly circling and tweaking her c.l.i.toris until her hips trembled and swayed. Meanwhile the other hand kept roaming a.s.sertively up and down her body, sliding up over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and creeping slowly down along her backside, brazenly exploring every part of her.
It was back.
Sara stirred restlessly in her sleep, once again disrupted by the persistent desire that kept rousing all of her senses. But she resisted being pulled from her sleep, conjuring images in an effort to enhance her dream instead. She pictured Ray taking control of her body like this, using just his hands-or possibly even his tongue-to tease and tantalize and torment her. With these thoughts of Ray mingling so faultlessly with the steady deftness of the fingers that now worked her c.l.i.toris, Sara drew nearer and nearer the brink of her long-awaited pleasure.
But in an unexpected turn, the fingers stopped and she heard the voice again. "No, Sara, it's not Ray!"
And suddenly the dream collided with reality.
Her mind, shocked beyond disbelief, was suddenly acknowledging the impossible. In fact, it suddenly seemed as if the impossible was the only plausible explanation. Some unseen thing, some otherworldly ent.i.ty, was making love to her.
Was it a spirit or a demon? Why had he chosen her? What did he want? These questions drifted through her consciousness in a kind of blur, obscured by the thick curtain of exquisite arousal that still hovered and simmered in every fiber of her being.
The fingers once again resumed their efforts, moving over her c.l.i.toris with a precision and skillfulness that surprised her. The second hand, too, picked up where it had left off, once again cupping and squeezing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, but this time pinching the tips more aggressively, as if to hurt. Sara automatically bit her lip to avoid crying out and possibly waking Ray.
"That's right," she heard the voice say mockingly. "We don't want to wake Ray."
Sara's heart started to pound with terrified excitement. She turned her head in Ray's direction in the dark, but he had not even stirred. She knew then that the voice was speaking to her from inside her head. She kept saying to herself, This is not really happening. But his fingers were working on her relentlessly, pulling her down. She felt weak and her desire was strong, but even so, she tried to resist.
"It is happening," the voice countered.
Another, third voice in Sara's head admonished her to scream.
"You don't want to do that," said the voice.
Clearly whatever it was could read her mind. "Who are you?" she thought.
"Open your legs nice and wide for me, and you'll find out."
"I don't have to listen to you!" she thought. But she opened her legs and allowed him to move in between.