IN MY DREAMS
Bless Sanderson leaned against the hard tile wall of the
tiny hospital linen closet, and the dark stranger grasped her in his arms. She
didn't feel a flicker of alarm but curled her legs around his thighs and yanked
him closer, reveling in the hot wetness of his mouth covering hers.
She'd met the dark stranger many times before.
He eased the blouse off her shoulders. It dropped to the
floor, a white wisp in the darkness, forgotten. Then he reached behind her and
unsnapped her bra, releasing her full dark breasts. He feasted his eyes on
them, while her nipples hardened in the air conditioned breeze from the vent
above them.
She could hardly wait for his touch. She moistened in
anticipation, her groin rolling against his.
He groaned and buried his face in her bra, inhaling her
scent. He liked to draw the wanting out, he said it made the having sweeter.
She heard footsteps passing outside. They paused outside the
door. At that moment, she felt his tongue against her breast, the warm, wetness
encircling her nipples. The footsteps continued on.
She inhaled, his tongue at her breasts bringing an answering
response from her femininity.
"Don't make me wait, do it now," she whispered,
sensing the coming of the morning.
He touched his lips to hers and trailed them across her
cheek. "We have time," he said.
Bless swore as the blare of sirens filled the air.
Bless opened her eyes to the harsh ring of her alarm clock,
and punched the button with a savage motion. An ache of incompletion settled
between her thighs, but if she wanted to get to work on time . . . It wasn't
fair. The dreams were coming more frequently, always the dark stranger, his
touch, his kisses, his body. Unsettling, unwelcome dreams.
She'd given up on that part of life. When she was younger,
she went out and tried men and relationships a few times out of curiosity, but
was disappointed or hurt, sometimes both.
In
Bless observed her cohorts. Most turned to the Lord. The
church overflowed with black women, their sexual energy channeled into gospel
and spirit, the aisles shaking with the power. It was all good. She was there
too, right along with them. She stayed away from the Saturday night bars, the
furtive encounters with substandard or married men for the sake of desire. She
didn't let her aches flow over into bitterness like some women, eager to slash
and backstab any woman who looked like she might be getting something that they
could only dream about.
Most of the time she was content. That made her doubly upset
about this new yearning that she could barely control.
The man who haunted her dreams was tall and well built,
intelligent and kind, with a ready sense of humor and a twinkle in his dark
eyes. His bronze skin reminded her of caramel. Tickly stubble developed rapidly
if he missed a day shaving, over sexy dimples in both cheeks and his chin. He
was the type to care nothing about clothes, but always looked put together
anyway.
Bless groaned and rolled out of bed to go to the bathroom.
Later, she stared at her morning face in the bathroom mirror, pudgy, dark,
plain, and topped with a plain relaxed bob that she simply wrapped each night
since she couldn't be bothered with fooling with her hair overmuch.
Her body matched her face, strong and hefty, a good body for
an RN. It wasn't the body of a woman who was well-loved, and definitely not the
body who would attract somebody such as the dark stranger. She wasn't built for
passion; that was her sister's function.
They joked that Ginger received all the beauty genes in the
family. Ginger was red-skinned with a wild mane of brownish red-tinged hair to
match. She had exotic and sultry features, almond eyes and full heart-shaped
lips, a gorgeous face to match a slim, elegant long-legged body.
Yes, Ginger had the all the beauty, but Bless had something
more. The sight. Bless had no doubt that the dark stranger existed. Everyone
she dreamed about always did. Bless dreamed dreams, saw visions, heard voices.
She had for as long as she could remember.
When she said something about it to her teacher, they sent
her to a doctor, who sent her to another and another. Despite her aunt's
attempts to intervene, she was diagnosed with almost every vague psychosis in
existence. Her aunt finally gave into the pressure to put Bless on medication
and as she predicted, all it did was make Bless sleepy; the visions, dreams and
voices continued.
She had a happy childhood. The three of them were
inseparable back then. Three little girls, each a year apart in age, sisters
and best friends, related, yet so different. Ginger, the youngest, the
prettiest, the outgoing one and the one who got in the most trouble by far.
Maris, the middle child, was developmentally disabled, functionally able to
play and care for herself, but capable of limited communication and learning.
Bless was the oldest, quiet, stolid and reliable. The leader, the one with the
power.
She always got along with others, did well in school, had no
trouble at home and exhibited no bizarre behavior. Apparently she was nothing
at all like other folk who had delusions, saw visions and heard voices.
So in a few years the shrinks gave up on her. They rescinded
the diagnoses and stopped the medication. Her therapist ignored her when she
talked about the visions or her powers. She figured that they decided nothing
was wrong with her except that she was a liar.
Bless wasn't a liar, and she knew that she wasn't crazy.
Since they had no help for her, they chose not to believe her. It was a hard
lesson for a little kid to learn--that you can't always trust the people you're
supposed to trust the most.
It was a lesson she never forgot.
Bless slid her ID through the time clock. It was six-thirty
a.m., another twelve hours to go and another few dollars to earn. The emergency
room was usually quiet in Red Creek. They had the infrequent auto accident or
such, but more often Bless dealt with fevers and falls, nursing home residents
nearing their end, and anxious parents of children with strange rashes.
Emergency room work wasn't her love. When she was in nursing
school, she was drawn to the nursery, the babies. She loved helping brand new
life into the world, devoid of psychic impression. A clean slate, a new start.
That was where she wanted to work. But as usual, she put her wants aside and
went where she was most needed, and where she could do the most good. This was
where the trauma happened, where life slipped away unexpectedly.
Because not only did Bless dream the truth, sometimes she
could heal. She glanced at her hands. You'd think power would bring joy instead
of . . . her gaze slid away from the door of the linen closet she dreamed about
that morning--instead of duty, denial and obligation.
But, enough of self-pity. Bless put her melancholy mood
aside, humming a gospel song as she went to get a cup of coffee.
She was starting on her second cup when a woman burst
through the ER doors carrying a baby swaddled in blankets.
"Somebody help, oh God, help me!"
Bless put down her coffee and ran. Mike, the male nurse, was
already getting ready to start the IV. The doctor examined the baby on the
table. Emma tried to talk to the mother, who collapsed against the wall,
sobbing.
Bless glanced at the baby, unconscious and badly burned. As
soon as Bless touched the infant, she knew he wouldn't live the next twenty
minutes. She put the electrodes in place. The infant was in shock, his vital
signs failing, and his heartbeat already starting to become erratic. She
covered the baby's skin with gauze doused in saline while Mike got the IV
cannula in and started infusing fluids. He pulled the crash cart closer.
Unless Bless intervened now, the baby would soon be gone.
She gathered energies from the earth and put both hands on him. It seemed as if
the room filled with a green glow emanating from her violet-tinged aura. At
first she thought others would have to see it, but she knew now from experience
they perceived nothing. She flushed the baby's barely perceptible gray-white
aura with life essence and prayed that would be enough. If it was His will, it
would be.
"Bless?" the doctor asked. Her eyes snapped open.
"The helicopter is on the way. The only way this child
will survive is on a Level 1 trauma burn unit."
The doctor grasped her shoulder. "Sweetie, I know this
is upsetting," he said, in what she knew he thought was a fatherly manner,
but came off as patronizing. "We'll have a process session over this
afterwards. Let's just get through this."
"Thank you, doctor." Bless said, trying not to
roll her eyes at the mention of the dreaded process sessions. The last one he
made everyone take off their shoes, stand in a circle, hold hands and confess
one way they needed to improve.
She looked at the monitor. Much better. Mike stopped leaning
on the crash cart. The baby would make it.
The day was thankfully uneventful after that, but the
minutes of her twelve hour shift ticked away slowly. The sun settled behind the
horizon when Bless finally walked into the hospital parking lot, her feet sore,
her back sending twinges of pain radiating outwards.
Her day wasn't over. Bless pulled up in the McDonald's drive
thru and ordered a salad for herself and a hamburger and fries for her sister.
A few minutes later she parked her car in the driveway of the Birchtree
Communal Home for Living and rang the doorbell. Sandy, one of the more pleasant
counselors, opened the door holding a dish towel. "It's good to see you
again, Bless. Your sister is in her room."
Bless nodded at some of the other women in the large house
as she climbed the stairs to her sister's room.
The door was shut. Her much more social roommate with Down's
syndrome was somewhere else in the house. Maris sat on the bed in a darkened
room. Bless turned on the light. Maris didn't blink or acknowledge Bless at
all, lost in her own inner world. "I brought you some food from
McDonald's. I know how you love their fries." She proffered the bag.
Maris shook herself like someone waking and took the bag,
greedily opening it. She tore open the toy first. It was a wind up figure that
lit up and she played for it a few seconds with delight before discarding it
and getting some fries to munch on. Bless watched her with pleasure. Maris
seemed always happy. The happiest of the three of them.
Maris straightened and stared at Bless. She never talked
much, no more then a mono-syllabic word or two indicating her needs.
"What's wrong, honey?" Bless asked.
Suddenly a lightning-like flash seared across Bless' field
of vision. A baby. Not the injured Caucasian baby in the ER, but a brown baby,
staring up at her, from her arms. She looked up and her heart pounded. The dark
stranger. Could it be possible? Could the baby be . . . hers? Her heart
contracted at the thought. Lightening flashed again and a dark cloud grew over
the baby's face. She couldn't remove it. Bless grew frantic. Her sister
Ginger's face emerged from the cloud and the baby and the dark stranger were
gone.
Bless gasped. She clutched the sides of her chair, feeling
disoriented. She never went without warning any more. She glanced at her
sister, wondering if she noticed anything. Maris was eating her French fries,
unconcerned. Bless stood and kissed her on the cheek. "Bye, baby. See you
in a few days."
Maris waved.
IN MY DREAMS, Chapter Two
Driving home from the Communal Living Home, Bless pondered
her vision, frustrated by the longing that accompanied it then the content,
needing to be satisfied with her lot. This recent spate of lusts and baby
longings were wearing her down.
She'd go home and pray about it and hope that would calm
her. She had too much to do to spend time fretting and discontent about things
she couldn't change. It unsettled her and reminded her too much of Ginger.
She approached the big old farmhouse where her family lived
as far back as she could remember. Their roots were in Red Creek and Bless
loved the place. The country air, the people who knew all her business as well
as she knew theirs, the rich red clay, Red Creek was a part of her. She
couldn't imagine living anywhere else.
They were constantly updating the old frame house to make it
livable. Cheery yellow siding with white trim had been a recent addition.
Touching the remote to the garage, she pulled in and unlocked the door to the
kitchen. Bless sighed to see the dirty dishes in the sink and food still on the
stove. Aunt Praise would cook, but she didn't like to clean up and too
frequently left the mess.
The television was on and Bless walked into the living room.
Aunt Miriam was sitting on the couch staring blankly at a golfing tournament.
Bless picked up the remote and changed to a cartoon station. She sat beside her
and patted her on the thigh. Miriam nodded at the television, probably in
appreciation. "Do you know where Praise is, Aunt Miriam?" Of course
she didn't answer. Miriam was developmentally challenged the same as Maris. It
ran in the family.
She touched Miriam's hand and lightning flashed. She
couldn’t credit it happening again, but there was the baby, the dark stranger,
and more quickly this time, Ginger. Bless was shaking when the vision faded
away and she felt the fabric of the cough under her thighs. What happened next
was stranger yet. Miriam turned to her and said, as clear as a hot blue July
day, "Go to Ginger now. Go to your sister."
Bless stared at Miriam. She'd never heard her speak two
distinct sentences in her life. She started to stutter, the she got the words
out, "Why, Miriam? Why to you want me to go to Ginger in Atlanta?"
Miriam turned back to stare at the cartoon on the
television, rocking and laughing. Bless wanted to shake her and scream, but she
knew it would be to no avail. She stood, her knees wobbly, and went to find
Aunt Praise. She needed advice.
Aunt Praise was closeted in her office with a customer.
Bless' lips thinned. She didn't approve. Praise made charms, did minor spells
and psychic readings for the townsfolk. Bless didn't approve of such use of the
power, much less engage in it.
She tried not to be too judgmental, but Praise's activities
brought such unsavory types into their home. Not to mention unsavory
vibrations. Also sometimes it boomeranged back on them and Bless had to engage
in complicated rescue operations her aunt wasn't aware of. She tried to speak
to her about it, but apparently Praise didn't discern energies the way she
could.
Aunt Praise was stubborn and liked to be independent and
this was the only way she knew to make a living. So Bless had to pick up after
her in more ways then one. She was continually cleaning their home of unclean
psychic energies. It got tiresome.
Bless went to her room and picked up the phone to call
Ginger. A thrill of fear went through her and she found it hard to breathe. She
tried to punch in the numbers, but her eyes blurred. That was it. She was going
to her sister's apartment in Atlanta tomorrow. Something was going on,
something that Ginger needed her help with.
But after a twelve-hour shift, visiting her sister, and the
stresses of this day, she couldn't manage the drive tonight. She'd leave in the
morning. Bless dropped her scrubs on the floor. She was exhausted. Bless
crawled into bed in her underwear and was fast asleep in a few minutes.
Lightening. A storm raged across a scorched world. Hordes of
demons scurried across the earth eager to seek out and destroy hated humanity.
The machines of war failed. The world's armies were fallen.
All the weapons of mass destruction, chemical, biological, and nuclear failed.
Science was completely defeated.
But on the horizon, a light grew. The ones of power gathered
to defend the world against the evil that threatened to consume it.
Among them, Glory prepared to fight in the final battle.
She heard a woman's voice, urgent. "Any one of them can
turn the tide. Darkness seeks to destroy the ones of power now, while they
still can."
By habit Bless woke long before anybody else in the house
did. She was profoundly troubled as she showered, dressed and took her suitcase
down from her closet and filled it with the basics. She didn't plan on
socializing or partying with Ginger. She hoped she wouldn't be staying long.
She packed for ten days.
Sending white light through the house to cleanse it, Bless
headed down to the kitchen to start breakfast.
Bacon, eggs and pancakes were on the stove, coffee was in
the pot and Miriam sat at the table picking at her food when Aunt Praise
entered the kitchen around eight-thirty. "Good morning, Bless, sorry I
missed you last night, but I had work." Praise busied herself filling a
plate. "Looks delicious. Thank you, honey."
"I need to talk to you," Bless said.
"What's on your mind?" Praise settled down at the
table and dug into the plate.
Bless regarded Praise with affection tinged with
exasperation. She was getting older, sixty-six years old, although she didn't
look a day over fifty. She was the woman who raised her, the closest thing she
had to a mother.
"I had waking visions with no warning for the first
time in years. Both with the same message, 'Go to Ginger now.'" Praise's
chewing slowed, and a frown started to develop on her face.
Bless' gaze turned to Miriam who was looking out the window
at a bird. "Last night Miriam spoke to me. What she said was to go to
Ginger, go to my sister. Two complete sentences."
Praise didn't look surprised, just took a sip of coffee.
"Have you called Ginger?" she asked?"
"I can't. I tried twice."
"Stop trying then. Don't go either."
Bless frowned. "Why not? She could be in
trouble--"
"More reason not to go. There's history in our
family."
"I don't care about the past. The key word is family.
She's my sister and she may need my help. I'm calling her now." Bless
stood and crossed the room to the phone. She picked it up and a heavy,
oppressive dread filled her. She started to press the numbers and that dread
turned into panic. She hung the phone up on the receiver as fast as if it had
turned into a poisonous snake in her hand.
Praise watched her. "See what I mean? Leave it alone.
We sisters have history, I told you. Sometimes around the age that you're at,
it can be dangerous if we're in proximity."
"Dangerous? That's ridiculous. Ginger and I have
squabbled at times, but we're sisters, and that's normal. We've always
basically got along."
Praise shook her head. "Please don't go."
"There's nothing you can say. I've packed my bags. I'm
leaving for Atlanta within the hour."
Praise sniffed and wiped her eyes. "At least let me
make you a charm for protection."
"Aunt Praise, you know I don't like those things.
There's another thing, I also had one of those apocalyptic dreams."
Praise shrugged. "One good thing about those dreams is
that the scale is generally too big for you to worry about doing a thing about
anything but enjoying the show."
"I suppose you could say that was the case," Bless
murmured. "I better get going." She glanced at Miriam as she left the
room and was surprised that Miriam met her eyes with her lips curved in a
smile.
On the highway, Bless tried to call Ginger again in the car
on her cell phone, but that feeling of dread and oppression happened. A spell?
Bless hated spells, especially when they happened to her and
generally, spells couldn't happen to her. A spell has to have a gate, a
weakness. A person had to have knowledge that a spell was being cast on them,
belief in the spell and fear of the spell. Bless had none of these things. It
was very strange. Ginger might need her protection after all.
Bless pulled on the highway before she punched in the
numbers to call the hospital to tell them that she'd be gone for a while. If
they didn't like it, tough. She had family business to take care of. She put
her foot on the gas and rolled over the asphalt toward the big, bad city of
Atlanta.
She and her sister had an interesting relationship, one of
those sibling relationships where there was both love and active dislike.
She couldn't imagine anybody more opposite then herself then
Ginger. Ginger was one of those little girls who'd steal from the collection
basket in church, smile in the preacher's face and buy everybody candy
afterwards.
In high school, Ginger was the head of the meanest and most
stylish clique of girls in school. She wasn't around after that because she
swore that after she graduated all Red Creek would see of her would be the dust
her hind end kicked up as she got the hell out of there, and she wasn't lying.
Ginger didn't even stick around to collect her diploma.
But they stayed in touch. Bless' was fixed in Red Creek, the
town as much a part of her as her skin. Ginger was like the wind, was always
searching and going hither and thither. Despite their differences, Bless
understood Ginger's emptiness the way no one else could. Bless wished she could
soothe her, but there was no way to heal discontent.
She didn't want trouble to come to her sister, but she
sensed terrible trouble indeed. The inside of the car was warm, but Bless
shivered as if a cold wind has passed. A bad omen.
IN MY DREAMS, Chapter Three
A hundred and so miles away in Atlanta, Rick Jensen was
worried. Swank was out of jail. Rick's brother disappeared with enough of
Swank's money that Swank's first priority would be getting his hands on his
brother's girlfriend, Ginger, to find out where Malik had taken off.
The only thing that stopped Swank so far was the amount of
surveillance that Rick put on Ginger. But the department far more interested in
bringing Malik to justice then protecting Ginger. The fact that Malik had made
off with hundreds of thousands of dollars that would have gone into the city
coffers upon Swank's arrest did not set with the department well. With every
passing day, Malik's trail grew colder and the pressure on Rick increased to
relocate the resources he was using on Ginger elsewhere.
His time was running out and he about had it with Ginger.
He'd wanted to relocate her to a protection program before Swank got out of jail,
but she flatly refused. So he got to spend way too much of his free time with
her. It was a trial, because Ginger got on his last nerve.
Also, he didn't want his family too involved with his
brother's girlfriend. His brother told the family nothing about her, and
probably with good reason, because when he met her, he instantly knew his
mother and sister wouldn't take to her. Why did his brother choose a woman so
different from the women who raised and loved him? Rick didn't understand it.
But he owed it to his brother to keep her safe and he'd do
the best he could. His gut feeling told him that Ginger knew something about
where Malik was hiding. He bet his brother was laid back on some white sand
beach with some disgusting drink with an umbrella stuck in it while Rick was
taking care of his business for him.
It was the same when they were kids. Malik would jump into
deep doo-doo and Rick would pull him out. Dad kept him in line with his iron
fist, but once Dad was gone, Malik veered way off the straight and narrow.
Rick saw the way he was sliding, and tried to warn him about
trying to live within one's means and working for one's wants. Malik never did
pay him any mind. High maintenance women such as Ginger and flashy cars were
the name of the game to Malik, along with constant business schemes and money
making deals on the side. It was only a matter of time until the right
opportunity came, Malik would joke, and then he'd settle in the Caribbean and
write the great African American novel.
If you don't get yourself in big trouble first, Rick would
quip back. He always thought that Malik was basically all talk and no action.
And then this crap happens. He was going to especially wring Malik's scrawny
neck for saddling him with Ginger.
Bless was anxious to find out what, if anything, was going
on with Ginger, so she was relieved to see Ginger's classic red MG in front of
her apartment. She slid out of her sensible white Toyota Tercel and rang the
doorbell.
"Hang on," she heard her sister yell.
Ginger pulled the door open. Bless gasped, but neither said
a word. Ginger stared at Bless and Bless stared at Ginger's stomach.
Finally Bless asked, "May I come in?"
"Uh, sure."
Bless followed Ginger to the living room, marveling at
Ginger's hugely swollen abdomen, her ungainly waddle, her thickened thighs, and
were those jowls under Ginger's chin? She didn't mean to be uncharitable, but
she'd never seen Ginger in any state that was short of dazzling. She was
shocked.
"Won't you sit down?" Bless said this instead of
Ginger. She couldn't stand to see her sister on her feet, looking as if she was
panting, a moment longer. Ginger seemed as if she was going to fall over.
Ginger sank into a recliner and picked up a hand fan and
fanned furiously. "This being pregnant is worst then the devil." She
waved Bless toward the kitchen. "If you want something to drink, go help
yourself. And bring me a Michelob."
"Should you be drinking alcohol?"
"Why don't you bring me my beer now and hold the
lecture for later."
Bless bit her lip. She supposed one beer wouldn't hurt at
this late stage, but still . . .
"Sorry. I don't mean to be impatient with you, sis, but
your sudden presence is surprising," Ginger said, trying to adjust her
bulk in the recliner.
"That's all right." Bless went into the kitchen
and rummaged in Ginger's refrigerator, shaking her head at the lack of
nutritious food and got out a diet cola for herself and a beer for Ginger.
Bless handed Ginger the beer, popped the top on the cola and
leaned back on the couch. "Well? Why no word about your pregnancy? You
look like you're at least eight months," she asked.
"Almost nine." Ginger shook her head. "You
know I never wanted a child. I couldn't find a doctor who'd do a tubal on me
years ago." She pointed at her stomach. "This happened despite being
on birth control pills, usage of a condom and spermicidal cream all at once.
Then after I missed my period, I was desperate enough to take an overdose of
those morning after pills. Amazing, isn't it?"
"Astounding," Bless said in a dry voice.
"But that's not all. I tried to get an abortion, not
once but several times. Despite the procedure being legal, and me having the
cash, I was thwarted at every turn,"
"What do you mean thwarted?"
"Thwarted, as in prevented. For instance, this silly
fool started waving around a gun right before the thing was supposed to be
sucked out." Ginger started feeling around the sides of the recliner and
pulled out a cigarette case.
"I knew it was all for show and nobody was really going
to be hurt, so I told them to go ahead and finish," she continued as she
lit the cigarette.
Bless gave a pointed cough.
"But they all wanted to panic and shit," Ginger
said, ignoring Bless' cough.
Bless stared at her sister, speechless.
"Yeah, I was too pissed because at least that time I'd
made it to the clinic. When I tried to get there the first time my car blew up.
Then my taxi blew up," Ginger flicked the ashes and shook her head.
"I took the goddamn bus and it went off the curb. Finally, I decided to
walk. I got nearly run over, cars jumping curves to get at my ass. Sparrows
kamikazed me and pigeons divebombed me with pigeon poop. Folks who didn't know
me from Adam tried to drag me off the street. I had to turn around and go back
home covered with pigeon shit and skid marks on my ass."
"That sounds thwarted all right," Bless managed to
get out.
"Tell me about it," Ginger agreed.
"So, I take it that you're not thrilled about the
prospect of motherhood?"
Her sister cocked her head and stared at her. "Ya
think?" she asked, looking disgusted.
Bless tried not to chew her fingernails. This was a bit
much. She heaved a heavy sigh. "Have you considered simply letting someone
else raise the child?" she asked.
Ginger leaned forward. "You know that won't solve the
problem."
Bless made an exasperated sound. "I'm not understanding
you at all. What problem?"
"I'll die if I have this goddamn baby. That's the
problem."
Bless reached out to touch Ginger's stomach. The baby was
healthy. Ginger was healthy, and she saw no precursors of maternal disaster.
"You're not going to die in childbirth," she said. "You know
that I know."
Ginger picked up the beer again. "You don't get it, do
you? I'm not talking about childbirth. I'm talking about us, our family. The
brood mare always dies young. Look what happened to our mother. Our
grandmother."
Bless drew in her breath, held it and let it out real slow.
"That's silly superstition, Ginger. You can't stake your child's
life--"
"Because of the weird shit that's gone on around us
since we were infants? It's always the same. There's three sisters. One is fine
and popular, one is weird and homely and one's an idiot. The fine one has three
girls, and then she has to pay because she's well and truly fucked. She kicks
the bucket, and the homely sister raises them. It's the same generation after
generation. It never changes. We're not real people, we're just rats stuck on a
fucking fatalistic treadmill and I want off."
Ginger sniffed then took a huge drag on her cigarette and
blew a cloud of smoke toward Bless. "I don't want to have a bunch of brats
and die in a few years. I was having dreams that there was a chance to change
it now for some reason, but everything I tried . . .failed."
She blew out another cloud of smoke. "Maybe you're here
for a reason. I know you have power. Maybe you're here to help me get rid of it
once and for all."
Bless was too busy coughing to answer.
Bless didn't say much to Ginger after her tirade. At least
now she knew why she had the pressing premonitions that she needed to get here
ASAP. She wondered why the universe took so long. Her sister was ready to
deliver the child soon and had obviously not bothered with prenatal care at
all. She appeared to be living on candy bars, diet coke and beer.
Bless has taken refuge in the kitchen, saying she wanted to
cook dinner and tidy up. Ginger was sitting in the living room laughing at some
horrendous reality show on television. She wondered how Ginger supported
herself. She was a hairdresser and she didn't see how Ginger could manage all
the standing required.
It didn't seem as if the father was in the picture, but that
was no surprise. Men went in and out of Ginger's life through a revolving door.
Ginger made no bones that the measure of a man was the heft of his wallet
combined with the size of his penis multiplied by his skill in bed.
Ginger was nothing if not direct. Men had a certain purpose
in her world, and if they failed to fulfill it, they could hit the door as far
as she was concerned. This seemed to make her more, not less popular with men.
They certainly loved a challenge and Ginger was certainly that. No man had
conquered her yet.
Bless looked through the cabinets. She wouldn't be able to
cook until she bought some food. She picked up the phone to order out. She
settled for a pizza with extra toppings and triple veggies. Probably more
nutrients then Ginger had for weeks.
She hung up the phone feeling sick. This place was rank with
darkness to the point of foulness. Ginger was hell bent on murder. You can't
have the intentions like that and not funk up the psychic atmosphere. Bless
drew white light from the heavens and flooded the apartment, but it barely made
a dent.
Once Ginger figured out that Bless was as determined to
prevent infanticide as she was determined to commit it, there'd be a showdown.
Bless flipped through the yellow pages looking for a grocery that delivered.
She found one and mentally noted it. Let Ginger bring it on. Bless wasn't
budging an inch.
Waves lapped around the dark stranger and her, as they lay
entangled on the sand. Twilight blue was the color of the sky and the ocean,
the evening ocean breezes balmy. She knew that she'd recently been satiated.
He'd filled her with loving to the brim. She was disappointed that she missed
it. The ocean lapped at them lovingly and cleansed any evidence of their union
away.
If this time would only last forever.
"Forever is now, and yesterday and tomorrow. For us,
time is meaningless," the dark stranger said.
Bless didn't think she'd said it out loud.
He touched his lips to hers. They tasted of salt. Her heart
filled to bursting. Maybe she didn't have to say what she felt. She loved this
man and he loved her. She didn't know where they began or ended, but she knew
that.
"See?" he whispered. "You only think you
don't know me now."
"You look pretty good for somebody who hasn't gotten
laid since time out of mind," Ginger murmured absentmindedly while she
read the morning paper.
Bless thought that Ginger was treading on dangerous ground
commenting on folk's looks, good or bad, since she definitely wasn't at her
best herself lately, but wisely decided to keep her opinions quiet. Her
feelings still stung after Ginger described her as 'weird' and 'homely' last
night. It might be true, but Ginger didn't have to throw it in her face.
Ginger lit up a cigarette and Bless flinched. If she knew
Ginger there was no point in asking her to lay off the cigarettes around her.
In fact, it would make it worse.
"So how are your powers doing?" Ginger asked.
"Still crazy with the voices and visions after all these years?"
"Occasionally."
"You said you could heal. Anything else?"
Bless bit her lip. She felt reluctant to talk about what she
could or couldn't do with Ginger, and anyway, she wasn't fully sure herself.
"I can heal sometimes. When the Lord wills it."
"You are always so preachy. What about your will? What
do you want? You ever want anything for yourself, Bless?"
An image of the dark stranger came to mind and she lowered
her eyes.
Ginger gave a low laugh. "There's something you want.
But you're not telling. I want to know something. Since you can heal, doesn't
it work in reverse? You could drain the life force from someone, couldn't you?"
Bless looked straight into Ginger's eyes. "No, I
couldn't."
"You could if you wanted to."
Bless shook her head. "No, I couldn't," she
repeated, her voice soft.
"So what are you going to do to help me get rid of
this?" Ginger asked, indicating her swollen belly and getting straight to
the point.
Bless sighed.
"It's not my function to help you get rid of the
child." Bless got to the point also. She was going to eventually have to,
and it might as well be now.
Ginger stared at Bless and chewed her bottom lip as she
digested this.
"Well, you need to get the hell out of my apartment
then, because getting rid of this thing is my main 'function' and interest
right now," Ginger said.
"No," Bless replied.
"What did you say?"
"I said no."
Ginger's face twisted in amazement. Bless would have laughed
if the situation wasn't so serious. She bet Ginger had never heard Bless say no
directly to her face in her life.
"What does that mean?" Ginger finally asked.
"Do you need a dictionary?" Bless asked.
Ginger's mouth dropped open.
At that moment somebody banged at the front door. "Let
me in, I have groceries," a man's voice called.
Bless went and pulled opened the door and stood aside and a
tall man staggered through, obscured by the large sacks of food he was
carrying. He dumped everything on the kitchen table where Ginger was sitting.
"I looked in your refrigerator the other day," he
said by way of explanation. Then he turned to Bless.
It was the dark stranger.
She gasped. All the blood rushed from her face down to her
feet and back up to her head again. She thought she was going to faint and
swayed a little. She blinked too fast and breathed too slow. She put her hands
behind her back and gave herself a secret little pinch.
No, this wasn't a dream.