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From: Delta <delta@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} RP "Lucid Dreamer" by Delta 1/2 (MF)
Date: Sat, 1 Jul 2000 04:10:17 -0400
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RE
Should you wish to comment upon my story, I can be reached by
E-mail at:
delta @ nym . alias . net
Comments and critizisms are welcome.
Standard disclaimers: This is a work of fiction - no character
within is a depiction of any real person, living or dead. No
place or event described within exists outside of the writer's
imagination. Copyright retained by the author and this post
is for private use of the reader only. It is not to be published
in any form whatsoever, including being made available on BBSs,
or on Web Pages, without the express prior consent of author.
Any readers who are underage in the jurisdiction in which
they reside are asked to please pass by.
Delta.
Lucid Dreamer
By Delta delta @ nym . alias . net
For the third night in a row Robert woke with his
heart pounding. He groaned, sat up, and switched on his
bedside light. This had to end, there had to be some way
to make it end!
For the third night in a row he had felt the vibrations
come, vibrations which encased his entire body, which moved
up and down him in waves, which scared the hell out of him.
For the third night in a row he had fought them, struggled
to move, to cry out, to do anything to wake himself up, for
he knew that he was sleeping. For the third night in a row
he had succeeded. He took a deep breath to try and calm
himself. It worked--to an extent.
These vibrations were unlike anything he had before
experienced. All he knew was that he feared them, feared
what would happen if he let them take him, if he gave in.
It was much like the so-called 'Night Terror' where one
feels that one is in great danger and the only way to
escape is to waken oneself. There is no audio, no visual,
just that overwhelming sense of imminent disaster.
Robert sighed. It had passed. He reached out and
took the glass of water from the night table and took a
long drink. His hand was no longer shaking, for which
he was grateful, and he flexed it, concentrated on it.
That was what the book on Lucid Dreaming said to do.
Concentrate on your hand and ask yourself if you are
dreaming. Do this often throughout your waking hours and
eventually you will do it in a dream and you will become
aware. From that point on you will be able to control
your dream. That was the theory, anyway, become aware
you are dreaming and you will be in control.
Thus far it hadn't worked. Still, Robert continued,
liking the idea of being able to control his dreams. The
things one could do! He grinned, and caught his grin in
the mirror of his dresser.
"Prevert," he told himself, deliberately mispronouncing
the word. He looked at the alarm clock. There was still
time to get in some sleep before he had to get up in the
morning. He only hoped that the vibrations wouldn't
come again.
"I will remember all that happens during my sleep.
I will remember all of my dreams perfectly. I will become
aware in my dreams," Robert said his affirmation out loud.
It hadn't worked thus far, but he was remembering more and
more of his dreams. What he remembered he carefully logged
in his bedside notebook.
It wasn't a total loss, either, for he was able to
affect his dreams in some small measure. If, before going
to sleep, he concentrated on a person, on a face, with the
intent of dreaming about that person, he found that he was
becoming more and more successful. His success rate was
up to 40 percent. Four nights in ten he would have a dream
with that person present and four nights in ten was not
inconsequential. Thus he continued with his other
affirmations, confident that they, too, would be successful
in the end.
"Hey, Rob, comin' for a couple o' cool ones?"
"Sure, Jim, sounds great." Robert shrugged his way
into his jacket. "Where are we going?"
"The Gypsie Rose, natch." Jim wore a smile from ear to
ear. He lived for the week-ends and the Gypsie Rose was
where a lot of the single guys from the factory hung out.
It was also where a lot of the girls hung out too. It was
a good place to meet and socialize.
"Fine," He stepped out then grimaced.
"Botherin' you much today?"
Normally Robert wouldn't have answered that, but he
knew that Jim's concern was sincere.
"A little more than some days, a little less than
others," he replied, trying to keep the strain out of his
voice. It had been a mistake trying to take that large a
step and his knee and ankle were letting him know it in no
uncertain terms.
"Bastard!" Jim swore.
"It's okay, Jim. He paid the price for his stupidity.
It was a long time ago." Two years wasn't really that long,
but it was more than long enough for the hate to evaporate.
"Mebbe, but the sonufabitch coulda just taken out a
telephone pole insteada you." He fell in step with Robert
who began to limp his way out the front door. "Could call
us a cab," he suggested.
"And miss the bus ride? Never."
"Lecher!"
"Always."
The bus was almost full, as usual, but there was a
vacant seat on the right side and Robert slid into it
gratefully, allowing his left leg to stretch out in the
aisle. Walking more than a block or so on a bad day
like today was very trying. He could use a cane, but
he had been avoiding that. On a good day the limp wasn't
so discernible and he hated drawing attention to his
condition--which a cane would do. Jim grabbed a seat on
the opposite side.
"We're nearly there," Jim warned.
"Don't distract me . . . there she is!"
The woman in question was waiting for a bus on the
cross street. To Robert she had the face of an angel--and
a fair body as well, though with the colder weather she was
wearing heavier garments and it was no longer so easy to
tell. It was a good day, their bus had caught the red light
so there was plenty of time to drink in her beauty.
Hers was one of the faces which Robert had successfully
placed in his dreams. Unfortunately it was usually there
only momentarily, just as it was in real life. A face seen
through a window--sometimes of a bus, sometimes of a car.
He had never gotten close to her.
The bus jerked forward and Robert turned his head,
watching her 'til she disappeared, a building blocking his
view. He turned back to Jim who was grinning at him.
"Why dontcha get off, one o' these times an' say hi?"
he asked his friend.
"She's married," Robert told him, then elaborated as
he saw the surprised look on Jim's face. "She's wearing a
gold band on her finger, Jim, old son. I may be a 'lecher'
but I do have my honour to consider."
"How'd you see that?" Jim asked, still struck by the
revelation. He got up and moved over, taking the window
seat beside Jim as the other passenger left.
Robert lowered his voice. It was no longer playful,
but dead serious. "I did get off--once. I got close
enough to see it clearly so I kept on walking. So she's
just a beautiful dream, I wouldn't think of approaching
her--I'm not that sort and you know it." But if he ever
became lucid in a dream--well, that was something
different.
They sat in silence for a while. Then Jim got a
funny look on his face and Robert waited for it.
"Waitaminute. Whaddya mean you got your honour
to consider? What honour? Didja get it when I wasn't
lookin' or somethin'?"
"Sorry, can't discuss it now--our stop," Robert
laughed, and pulled Jim with him out of the seat.
The Gypsie Rose was, as usual, a hive of activity.
There was music, dancing, socializing and drinking.
Robert looked, with a little envy, at the dancers on the
floor. That was something else he couldn't do anymore.
He gave a long sigh, picked up his bottle of cider and took
a swig.
Jim was on the dance floor and was easy to spot. His
short blond hair and wide smile gave him away at once. He
was dancing with a vivacious brunette, Ellen, he thought her
name was, a good head shorter than Jim's six feet, and was
obviously enjoying every moment of it. That was Jim, all
right, Robert smiled to himself, a man who enjoyed life to
the full. He would do well to emulate him.
"Hey, easy!" The clap on his shoulder hurt.
"Sorry, gimp, don't know my own strength sometimes,"
Dave lied to him. "Get up off your ass. It's time you
gave me a chance to get my money back."
"Money? We never play for money," Robert replied
as he rose and headed over to the now vacant dart board.
"Whatever. So it's my turn to get drunk on you, you
gimpy bastard."
"Watch your language or I'll cut another one off
and you'll go around the rest of your life giving everyone
the finger! That'll get you in no end of trouble."
Dave stopped short than exploded in laughter. He
held up his right hand, curled his forefinger down and sure
enough, there was the good old one finger salute. He had
lost his ring and little fingers in a factory floor
accident years ago. That was one of the reasons that
Robert didn't mind it when Dave called him a gimp. That
and the fact that he only did so when it appeared Robert
was feeling sorry for himself. It was good, Robert thought,
to have friends.
"You know, I never thought of that. Might be fun," he
grinned. "But then, how would we play darts?"
"Learn to use your left, Dave. It couldn't be any
worse."
"That's it, Rob, buddy. I'm going to have to teach
you a lesson. Three-oh-one?"
"Three-oh-one," Robert confirmed. "Diddle for the
middle," he continued and threw his first dart and stepped
aside for Dave. Robert's dart was closer to the bulls-eye
so he threw first.
They played for some minutes, light banter interspersed
with their throws, until Robert ended the game.
"Double twenty and out. Damn! That's another one I
owe you. Hell, next time I'm going to buy you a couple
first, see how you well you throw then." Dave led the
way back to their seats where Jim was already seated with
two women. One was Ellen and the other was a blonde he
had never seen before.
When Robert caught sight of them he tensed. He knew
what was going down--Jim was trying to set him up again.
And he caught the momentary freezing of the blonde's smile
when she saw his awkward stride. Even now, after two
years, when he should be used to it, it still hurt.
"Hey, Rob, this here's Marty. Been tellin' her all
about you."
Robert nodded to the blonde, his stock smile on his
face. "Only the bad parts, I hope," he tried to play the
game as he seated himself.
"Of course not," Marty denied, "Jim only said nice
things."
"Must have been a short conversation."
"Robert's upset because he's losing his edge over
me in darts," Dave explained, and Robert felt a light
kick to his foot under the table. It was Dave's way
of telling him to shape up.
Robert didn't feel like shaping up and at times the
conversation was strained. Marty was obviously feeling
uncomfortable and occasionally gave a longing glance
towards the dance floor. Robert decided to put her
out of her (and his) misery.
"Say, Dave," he began, "why don't you take Marty
for a spin around the dance floor."
"Good idea," Dave was no slouch when it came to reading
sign. "Marty?"
"Sure." She smiled gratefully at Dave.
Dave rose and extended his hand to her. She hesitated
when she saw the missing fingers but Dave just smiled all
the more. Marty overcame her hesitation, returned Dave's
smile and took his hand. Dave then led her off with a
meaningful look at Robert, who knew he was in for a lecture
the next time Dave caught him alone.
Shit. Robert was in no mood for lectures, in no mood
for being set up, in no mood to enjoy himself. Why couldn't
they just leave him alone?
"Got to go to the Men's," he told Jim and levered
himself to his feet.
"Me too," Jim replied. "Be back in a minute," he told
Ellen as he rose to his feet as well.
Standing side by side at the urinals Robert waited for
Jim to start in on him. He was surprised when Jim's first
words weren't about his attitude.
"So, goin' to the auction again next week?"
"I might. I thought it was a good evening's worth of
entertainment."
"Mebbe, but you gotta learn how to bid. You paid way
too much for that picture frame. Woulda gone for half that,
mebbe less. Don' worry, you'll get the hang o' it."
The two of them turned to the sinks to wash their hands,
Robert still waiting for Jim to light into him. Jim remained
silent.
"Well, go on, say it," Robert finally gave in as he
tore off a hunk of paper towel.
"Don' need to. You'll do a better job 'n I could.
Give yourself some slack. Let yourself enjoy things. It
don' matter if Marty's uptight about your leg. I didn'
bring her over 'cause I thought she'd be your one an'
only, you know. Bottom line: it ain't all that important."
"You're right, Jim, but I think I've had enough for
the evening. My leg's bothering me and I think I'll just
head on home."
"Okay," Jim laughed, "but he'll just get you Monday
at work, you know."
Robert was forced to laugh, too. Jim had seen right
through him. "Perhaps, but at least I'll get a running
start. I'll need it, what with my leg and all. Have a
good one, buddy." Jim held open the door. "And Jim?"
Jim looked at him. "Thanks."
"Don' mention it."
Home. Robert breathed a sigh of relief and sat down
on a kitchen chair, relaxing his leg. It had been a real
bad day and climbing the stairs to his second floor
apartment hadn't done him any good, either. For a moment
he wished he were in a newer apartment building, one with an
elevator, but that passed. This building, with its old
radiator heaters, hardwood floors and twelve-foot ceilings,
had something the newer buildings never would. Character.
After a short rest he stood again and headed for the
bathroom where he began filling the old claw-foot tub with
water. Newer apartments didn't have these big old tubs
either. In them he could stretch out his leg and still
be lying down in the hot water.
Robert relaxed into the hot water and closed his eyes.
He opened them again, clenched his fist and asked himself,
"Am I dreaming?" The answer was, of course, 'no' and he
smiled to himself and relaxed his hand again.
At last the water grew cool and Robert clambered out
of the tub and dried himself. His bed awaited him and he
was thankful that tomorrow was Saturday. He could do with
a sleep-in.
Sitting on his bed, Robert looked at the wall, at the
picture he had bought at the auction. That had been
something completely out of the ordinary. The auction was
a small one which was held every Tuesday evening. Jim had
been a long-time patron and had dragged him to it this
time. It wasn't a fancy upscale auction, but now and again
there were interesting items. Often things went dirt
cheap, but then again often they weren't worth much either.
This particular Tuesday they were auctioning off an
estate. It belonged to an old spinster who had recently
died. Some of her goods were antiques and there were
dealers there, ready to put out good cash for them. Other
goods were more modern and worth little. There were some
utterly tasteless pictures, of the mass produced varieties,
which were purchased merely for their frames.
Robert thought it sad that in front of him a person's
whole life was being auctioned off. He moved closer to
the stage, peering in some of the boxes of junk which would
be auctioned later, by the box-load. His attention was
caught by the auctioneer.
"And here we have lot number 48. It is another picture
frame with a photo. Do I hear ten dollars?"
There was silence. It wasn't worth much, but it was
worth ten dollars. Robert was close enough to see the
photograph still resident in the frame. It was of the head
and shoulders of a young woman--in black and white. An
eight-by-ten photo. She wore a high collared dress.
"Do I hear five dollars." Silence. "Surely the frame
and glass are worth five dollars. Come on, ladies and
gents, let's hear five dollars."
"Two dollars." Someone called out.
The auctioneer pounced on the bid and began trying to
raise it. Someone bid three and another bid four dollars.
Robert was busy staring at the photo. There was something
about the woman in the photo, something that drew him.
Suddenly he felt he had to have it. He drew himself back
to the present where the auctioneer was about to knock down
on a ten-dollar bid. For some reason Robert felt very sad
that this photo would only bring the worth of the frame.
Surely it was worth more than that. Was there a price you
could put on a face like the one which captivated him?
"Thirty Dollars!" he called out, appalled that he had
done so, yet feeling quite proud also. He was aware that
Jim was looking at him as though he were quite mad, but the
more he looked at the photo, the better he felt about it.
"Sold, for thirty dollars to bidder number . . ."
Robert held up his plaque. "To bidder number 128. Next
is lot number 49. Do I hear forty dollars for this very
beautiful . . ."
Robert came out of his reverie and looked at the
photograph. It was for the photograph that he had bid.
The frame meant nothing to him. The woman in the photo
was nothing special as far as looks alone were concerned,
but there was something about her eyes. Her eyes seemed
sad, somehow, and somehow filled with knowledge. Her
smile was a knowing smile, a smile that was real, not
posed. She was, Robert decided, a very striking woman,
if not a beautiful one.
Robert looked long and hard at the picture--just as he
had for the last three nights since the auction. Hers was
a face he wouldn't mind seeing in his dreams. He locked
his gaze with the eyes in the photo, eyes which seemed to
look right into his soul. His attention drifted.
Suddenly he was back. He laughed out loud. Imagine,
drifting off like that. He'd better log some sleep time,
lots of sleep. Before turning off the lights he took one
last look at the woman--she was very striking. And he was
very tired. He should just lay back and let it happen, it
came to him, just drift off to sleep and let it happen.
Tomorrow would come when it came and would take care of
itself.
The vibrations were more powerful than ever. Robert
felt them coursing through him, felt them shaking his entire
body, moving in waves up and down. He had to fight them,
he had to sit up, to move, to shout. If he didn't, if he
allowed them to get him, if he let it just happen . . .
What? What if he let it just happen? What if he
didn't fight? Ah, hell, let them get him--what did it
matter, anyway? Besides, it might be interesting.
The vibrations continued, their frequency rising,
but without him fighting it, they no longer shook him like
they had before. It interested him. What *was* going to
happen?
Nothing. He woke up and got out of bed.
"Hi."
Ah, there she was.
"Hi yourself," Robert replied. "Still up? I thought
you'd have come to bed before now."
"I was waiting for you," she told him.
"Of course," it made perfect sense to him and he ran
his hand through his hair, straightening it. He looked at
his hand and asked himself if he was dreaming. He looked
at his hand again, excitement rising in him. There should
be no one in his place, certainly not in his bedroom. Yet
this woman was here. He looked up at her and she smiled a
very knowing smile--it was the woman in the photo. He had
done it! He had become aware in his dream. Now for some
fun!
Robert decided that he would start by kissing her, she
would want to kiss him. Sure enough, the woman from the
photo came over to him.
"Yes, I've been dying to kiss you," she smiled. Her
lips parted.
She had a nice body, too, Robert had seen as she came
over. Very sensuous, very nice. His excitement built.
He reached out and took her hands and drew her to him. She
came willingly. He took her in his arms and hugged her, her
breasts pressing against his chest. She was so warm and
soft!
"Just relax and let it happen," she whispered in his
ear, then raised her lips for him to kiss.
The kiss exploded throughout his body and he was awake.
"Damn!" Robert turned on the bedside light. Why did
he have to wake up? It seemed that every time he had a
really nice dream going, he would wake up at an inopportune
moment. Ah, well, better log it. He grabbed his notebook
and pen and began to write down the dream. As he did his
hand began moving ever more slowly. It slowly dawned on
him--he had done it. He had really done it. He had become
aware and he had controlled the dream--for a moment that
is. After she had started towards him, he had forgotten
that he was in a dream. It had become real to him again.
But she had operated according to his wish and they had
kissed. It was his first lucid dream. "Hot Damn!" It
worked, it actually worked.
There were no more lucid dreams that night and Robert
spent Saturday mostly around the apartment, doing odd jobs
that needed doing, cooking and basically resting. His leg
wasn't so bad today and he hoped that if he kept it well
rested that it would be good for work on Monday.
Saturdays were laundry days for him and he stripped
his bed and carried his wash down to the laundry room.
Wary of the more disreputable element which lived in,
or had access to the apartment building, he took a book
with him and read during the wash and dry cycles. It was
a pleasant way to kill an hour and Robert never minded
doing his laundry.
Back in his bedroom he put the clean sheets on his
bed. After the bed was made, he sat down on its end
and reached over and picked up the picture from the
auction.
"I'll see you again tonight," he promised. "We're
going to push the forty percent record even higher, you
and I. And we won't stop at a kiss, this time, either."
He looked down at his hand and clenched it. "Am I
dreaming?" he asked himself. "No," he replied, "but I
soon will be," he laughed, considering how he would
operate in his next lucid dream, wondering how he would
manage until bedtime.
When the vibrations came this time, Robert only
fought them for a moment before relaxing into them. They
weren't so frightening now that he had survived them once.
On the contrary they felt rather stimulating--in an odd
way. He allowed them to work on him unhindered, allowed
his concentration to lapse.
"It's good to see you again," she told him as he
walked into the living room. A light breeze was blowing
in the open window, bringing the smells of autumn into
his apartment.
"And it's good to see you," he replied, knowing at
once that he was in a dream. How far could he get this
time, he wondered.
"How far do you want to get?" she asked, which
surprised him.
He considered it a moment, then it made sense. It
was his dream, therefore she was a figment of his
imagination, or whatever, and would have knowledge of what
he thought--at some level, anyway.
"How about we sit down on the couch and get to know
each other better," she suggested.
Robert moved over to the couch, took her hand in his
and together they sat. Upon touching her hand he felt a
jolt of vibration run through him, lifting him up to a
higher energy level. He moved closer, wanting to kiss her,
then pulled back. Last time the kiss had signaled the end
of the dream. He would wait a bit, this time. She smiled
at him, encouragingly.
Robert lifted his hand and stroked her cheek. She
leaned into his hand, closing her eyes, a small smile of
contentment dancing about her lips--lips that were so
inviting, just begging to be kissed.
"What's your name?" Robert asked, enjoying the power
he seemed to hold over her, the power he did hold over her.
"Trudi," she told him, "Trudi Bauer."
"You are very pretty, Trudi," he told her, thinking
that it was about time that she started taking off her
clothes so he could see what lay waiting for him under
the rather severe black dress she was wearing.
Trudi undid the collar of her dress, then began
unfastening the buttons one by one. Her neck appeared,
graceful, lovely, then the opening revealed part of her
upper chest. Robert could wait no longer. He bent in
and kissed her neck, nuzzling the tender spots. Trudi
tilted her head back and to the side, allowing him more
room to spread his kisses around. She moaned.
"Oh, Robert, that feels so good, so very good." Her
hands were in his hair, twining and pulling his head this
way and that. He felt her shudder with the joy of it all.
"Take it off, Trudi," he whispered, referring to her
dress, as he pulled back.
Trudi slipped the dress off her shoulders, her white
bra coming into sight, exciting him. Her arms went behind
her and she grasped the cuff of her left sleeve with her
right hand and began to pull.
Robert's eyes went from her bra encased breasts to
the emerging arm and he smiled. He watched as her other
arm came free as well and the dress settled down about
Trudi's waist. Her head was bowed and she looked up at
him through her lashes, as a knowing smile playing about
her lips.
"Do you like what you see," she chuckled, her eyes
going down to his manhood. "Ah, yes, I see that you do."
She sighed. "It makes me feel so warm inside."
Robert blinked, remembering he was in a dream,
controlling it. He would see her breasts, now, he knew.
She would take off her bra for him. He smiled at her
and nodded. Her arms went behind her and unhooked the
bra. Slowly, so very slowly it slid down, revealing
more and more of the white flesh underneath. With the
areolae just showing, with the bra still covering her
nipples, Trudi stopped. She licked at her lips and
grinned at him, taunting him.
He laughed and reached for the bra. She moved
forward at the same time and, releasing her hold on the
bra, pulled his face into hers and kissed him deeply.
Robert felt electricity shooting through his body.
It was more powerful than the last time and his whole
body seemed to shake with it.
Damn! He was awake with a raging hardon. He
reached for the bedside light, intending to write up
the dream when he stopped. Why waste the hardon? he
asked himself and began to slowly stroke it up and down,
faster and faster until he was breathing hard and fast.
Nothing could stop it now and he gave out a little cry
as he came, his cum shooting up to his chest and stomach.
After his breathing returned to normal he reached
for some tissue to clean himself up, then lay back,
relaxed and fell into a deep untroubled sleep.
Lucid Dreamer -- part 2
There had to be some way to keep the dreams going,
Robert thought. Surely they didn't have to end just when
things were getting exciting. He knew they didn't, for he
had had erotic dreams before which lasted far beyond the
stage where his lucid dreams had ended. On the other hand
he had never had lucid dreams before and didn't know if
the parameters of dreaming had changed with the change in his
awareness. Perhaps the very fact that he *was* aware made
it more difficult to go further. Ah, well, he sighed to
himself, he would learn in time.
After his morning stretching exercises, which were
painful yet vital to maintaining his mobility, he took a
break and studied his dream log. Sitting on his sofa, he
compared it to his journal--a technique suggested for dream
interpretation--but came up empty. Nothing much seemed to
correlate.
Well, it was still early in the experiment, so he wasn't
too worried with his lack of success in that regard. And his
spectacular success in the lucid dreaming part of the experiment
more than made up for it.
His success . . . . Robert looked up at the picture of
the woman--he had taken it down and placed it on the coffee
table with the rest of the things pertaining to his experiment.
His eyes focused on hers and once again he was caught by the
sadness there. Was it really sadness, or was it merely his
imagination? He lay back, put his legs up and studied the
photograph more closely. There was something there; yes, and
the only term he had for it was sadness. Robert closed his eyes
and tried to think of a reason for that sorrow.
The vibrations came upon him unexpectedly. They were
there, then gone. Startled, Robert opened his eyes.
She was sitting in the chair, looking out the window.
He didn't even bother looking at his hand. He knew he was
dreaming, but was amazed for he had not even realized he had
been tired enough to go to sleep. He swung his legs off the
sofa and stood.
She turned her head. "Ah, Robert. I see you are out
again."
Robert shook his head as if to clear the cobwebs. "Out?"
he asked, then it came to him. "Ah, you mean up."
She smiled. "Yes. Up. I was looking *out*. You are
*up*. Even now I sometimes have trouble with your language.
"My language?" Robert was a little confused.
"Of course. I was not born here, you know. I was born
in Germany."
"Germany? Trudi, right? Yes, Trudi Bauer. I remember.
Yes, that is a German name, isn't it?" Robert felt strangely
excited that there was continuity between the dreams. That
was good. It must be something in the way his mind worked
that provided it. This was great!
Trudi began to laugh softly. He looked down at her,
wondering what was funny.
"You are," she laughed. Her laugh was a soft throaty
laugh which sent shivers up and down his spine. "So, what do
you wish to do with this continuity?" Trudi appeared amused.
"Damn!"
"No, this talking is not a waste of time," she denied,
reading his mind, it seemed. "We have much time--as much as you
desire. There is no need to rush."
He wished that she'd stop talking and let her hair down.
He noticed it was done up, just as in the photo. Trudi looked
up at him, gave him a shy smile and began pulling pins out of
her hair, allowing it to cascade down around her face and
shoulders. She swung her head from side to side and the
long, dark hair shimmered in the sun coming through the window.
Now that was more like it, Robert thought, then realized
that she was doing what he had only silently desired. He gave
himself a mental kick. Of course. I'm in a dream. I keep
forgetting; and, as long as I'm lucid, I'm in control.
Trudi smiled her knowing smile and raised her eyebrows
questioningly. He nodded, wanting her to shed the dress, and
she obediently began to undo the collar.
"Perhaps you would like to help me?" Trudi smiled at him.
Damn. Why hadn't he thought of that? He approached her
and she stood up. His hands, trembling slightly, moved to
the buttons on the severe black dress and began undoing them
one by one.
Being that close to her, with only her clothes between
his fingers and her skin, excited him. It seemed to excite
her as well, for her breathing had become much more noticeable.
At last all the buttons were undone and she turned about
to allow him to peel the dress down off her shoulders and
arms.
The sensation of lowering her dress, watching as more
and more of the pale skin appeared, excited Robert to a
degree that he'd never been excited before--not even when
he had been with Linda before the accident.
The dress fell in a puddle on the floor and Trudi turned
to face him. She was wearing only the rather stout--and long
out of fashion--bra and panties. He moved forward once more
to finish the job but she held up her hand.
"Please. I want to make myself naked for you." And she
blushed. She blushed, but that didn't stop her from reaching
back and unhooking the bra. This time she didn't stop and it
fell to the floor on the dress. Her breasts were not large--
but then neither was she large--yet were very appealing to
the eye. She looked up demurely. "Do you like what you see,
Robert?" she asked. "Am I as nice to look at as Linda?"
Trudi seemed uncertain of herself, which surprised
Robert, and shy. She was not built like Linda had been,
but her nipples, pointing slightly upwards, surrounded
by their areolae looked very nice indeed. He smiled at
her, wanting her to feel good about herself. She was very
nice, this Trudi, and he liked her--liked the way she moved;
liked the way she smiled; liked her shy yet provocative
style. Yes, he liked this woman a lot.
"Und ich habe dich auch gern, liebchen" she told him.
"What does that mean?" Robert wanted to know.
"I'm sure you'll be able to find out on your own."
Again she gave him an amused smile, which he was beginning
to find annoying. He didn't like to be played with like
that. "I'm sorry. Perhaps we should go into the bedroom?"
It was a good idea and Robert followed her, watching
the gentle sway of her hips as she silently, gracefully
moved into the bedroom. She stopped at the bed, turned and
smiled shyly at him. As he nodded, she hooked her thumbs in
the waistband of the panties and lowered them to her knees
where she let them drop to the floor.
She looked up at him through her eyebrows. He was
smiling broadly as he hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt and tore
it from him. As he unfastened his belt he noted that she
was blushing again and wondered why.
"You are the first," she answered his unspoken question.
"The first what?"
"The first man to see me so." She spread her arms palms
up, indicating herself. "I am pleased that you enjoy what you
see." She looked down again. Then she giggled and jumped
back onto the bed and bounced her way up until she lay with
her head on one of the pillows.
Robert struggled out of his pants and, with a running
jump, joined her. This was going to be fun!
"Please, can we just lie together for a while?"
Robert paused, surprised. This wasn't quite what he
had expected. He wanted to have wild, passionate sex. Yet,
here was this woman wanting slow, quiet romance. It was
frustrating.
His face cleared as he became aware once more that it
was *his* dream. She would have wild sex with him and love
it. "Are you ready, baby?" He gave her a lusty leer.
For a moment it seemed like a shadow of reluctance
passed over her, a shadow of some deep sorrow, then it was
gone. She smiled up at him and opened her arms to him.
"I'm ready, baby!" she replied after a momentary
hesitation.
Robert felt something about her sudden enthusiasm was
forced and he put the brakes on. It seemed he that even his
'dream girls' were staid and couldn't be cajoled into being
wild.
"Good," he smiled softly at her and reached up a hand
to slowly stroke her hair, "'cause I want you to really enjoy
this."
Robert propped himself up on his left elbow and looked up
and down Trudi's naked body. He whispered to her how beautiful
she was, how much he enjoyed being there with her, and slowly
moved his right hand over her face, stroking her eyebrows;
tracing the lines of her jaw, her cheek-bones, her lips;
caressing her cheeks. She had great beauty, much more beauty
than the picture gave her credit for.
His hand caressed her neck, then made way for his lips by
moving down to her breasts. Trudi began to sigh softly, to
breathe more quickly, and Robert felt himself begin to harden
once more. He had lost it a little when he had changed gears,
but it was coming back now. His fingers found a nipple and
gently brushed over it, slipped down around the undersides of
her breast, circled and brushed over it again. It grew from
the tender attention and Trudi let out a quiet moan. Her hands
came up, caught his face and brought his lips to hers. She
kissed him.
Robert allowed her to kiss him for a moment, then broke
the kiss suddenly, pulling back. It ruined the moment. Her
eyes opened and she regarded him, surprised and hurt.
"Why?" she asked, her voice quiet and shaky.
"The last two times," he explained, "when we kissed it
all ended. I don't want it to end now. You're so beautiful
and I want to enjoy this, want you to enjoy this."
Trudi's smile reappeared. "It's okay. We kissed and it
didn't end, did it? Do not worry, it will be okay." She
pulled his face back down and she kissed him again.
It didn't end. There was no sudden explosion waking him
up. Instead he only felt a little light-headed as he felt her
soft lips against his. He stilled his urge to kiss her hard
and, rather than that, kissed the corners of her mouth; kissed
her chin; kissed the tip of her nose and her eyelids before
returning to kiss her full on the mouth again.
Trudi's lips parted under his and he opened his mouth
slightly to allow his tongue through. He lightly ran it over
her lips. She gave forth with a moan, then the tip of her
tongue met his and they played for several moments before
she released his head and allowed her own to sink back into
the pillow.
Her smile was one of genuine happiness and he had to
laugh. He was feeling pretty good himself.
"That was really fun," she enthused, then sobered. "Oh,
I waited too long . . . . " She fell silent, considered, then
asked in a subdued voice, "Can I ask you to do something?"
"Of course," he replied gently, "what is it?"
"Would you . . . would you suckle at my breasts?" She
looked up, expecting the worst, expecting rejection.
"With great pleasure," Robert answered, bending to the
task. He wondered at her doubts, but contented himself with
simply doing that which he had wished to do all along. He
kissed all around each breast, avoiding the nipples while his
hand stroked her stomach, causing it to contract and jerk at
the little pleasures it was receiving. Then he took one
nipple in his mouth while his fingers found the other. He
gently rolled the nipples between fingers, between lips, then
began licking and sucking.
"Oh," she whispered, her whisper half moan. Then she
gasped, "Oh!"
Without looking Robert knew that her eyes had gone wide
with that gasp. It was one of those things that you just knew,
and the knowledge filled him with pleasure and he redoubled
his efforts. Soon her moans and gasps were coming more and
more frequently. Her hands were in his hair, twisting and
pulling, holding him tight against her breast.
Trudi gave a little cry of dismay as he released her
breast and pulled back, then a moan of satisfaction as he
merely moved his mouth to her other breast, to allow it to
experience what its partner had just enjoyed. He shifted
his weight, too, so that he was lying half across her and
his other hand came into play, comforting the suddenly
abandoned breast.
There was a joy in Robert--the joy of giving joy--and
he felt his pulse quicken. He was hard and he was ready, yet
there was no hurry. He would wait until she, too, was ready
and eager to proceed. It would make it all the more sweet.
He moved up and kissed her on the lips again, her lips
parting in answer, her tongue coming out to duel with his.
His hand moved behind her head to hold it against his own,
even as his weight descended on her, pressing one breast
against his chest. His free hand moved down, down over her
breast, down past her stomach and into the forest beyond--
caressing, fondling, until her hips began no undulate in
response, then down further, over her mound to . . .
Something was pulling him away. His focus was being
lost. He looked at her in dismay, her face fading as he
heard only the echo of her cry, "I'll wait . . . "
Roberts eyes snapped open and he was moving to get
up, to answer the telephone, before he was even aware of
what he was doing. He stood up, but sat abruptly back
down again as his head spun. He shook his head to clear
it then quickly stood, groaning as his leg took too much
strain too quickly, and reached the phone before it stopped
ringing.
"Hello?"
"Good afternoon," a professionally cheerful voice
greeted him. "I'm calling for Room & Hallway Carpet Cleaners.
We have a great special on this month and I . . ."
"Go fuck yourself!" Robert snarled into the phone then
hung it up.
"Damn it all, anyway!" he cursed the Fates. Then he
shrugged, returned to the sofa and pulled his dream log to
him, opened it and began to write.
It was strange. Unlike most of his dreams, his lucid
dreams remained vivid and he could recall them in detail.
They did not seem to fade with time. It was also interesting,
he noted, that his leg felt no pain in the dreams. In most of
his dreams, these days, his pain went with him into the unknown.
Finished with the writing, he lay back down and tried to
get back into it. It was useless. He wasn't tired and he
couldn't relax. He gave it up and decided to lunch at the
small cafe down the street. Maybe later that night . . .
"Time for us to talk, buddy." Dave sat down across from
him in the lunch hall. "I'm surprised you came down from
accounting. You must have known I'd be waiting for you."
Robert looked up at Dave and sighed. It had been
inevitable. Still, he had to talk with him. There had
been no lucid dream later the previous evening, and he
didn't even recall his dreams of that night. There was
something on his mind, and it stuck there, worrying away
at him all the way into work.
"Yep. Figured on it. I know, I know," Robert held
up his hand to forestall Dave, "I was a right bastard the
other night. I was feeling sorry for myself and wasn't
prepared to cut anyone any slack. I apologize."
Dave looked at him, considering his words. Finally
he nodded to himself. "You don't seem to be just trying
to get out of a lecture, so I'll let it go. But, Rob,
you have to give people a chance. Marty was a fine person.
She even asked me out." He gave an amused laugh. "It's
been a long time since a woman asked me out. I usually don't
give them the chance, I ask first."
"So, you going to get together?" Robert was relieved
that he wouldn't have to sit through one of Dave's lectures.
Dave was a friend and he would do it for that friendship,
but they could be tedious at times.
"No. It's just a convenience thing. She needs a date
and she finds me acceptable. This," he held up his hand and
wiggled the two remaining fingers, "doesn't matter much to
her. But after talking a little, we both know that we don't
have overly much in common. She's nice enough that I don't
mind being her date for a night. Maybe someday I'll need
someone and she'll reciprocate."
"I guess that's nice, Dave. Too bad . . ." he let his
voice drop off.
"I have something to ask you, Dave. You lived in Germany
for a time, in the Forces, didn't you?"
"Yes. I spent a year there."
"Can you speak the language?"
Dave seemed somewhat surprised at how intently Robert
awaited his answer. "Some," he finally replied.
"Great! What does 'unt eech habbe deech auch gairn,
leebshen' mean?"
Dave grimaced at the accent. "'Und ich habe dich auch
gern, liebchen'?"
"Right."
"It means 'And I like you, too, darling', more or less.
Why?"
Robert didn't hear the question. He was far away, busy
being confused. Finally he looked up as Dave snapped his
fingers in front of his face.
"What? Sorry."
"Why did you want to know what it meant? Has some German
girl been after you?" Dave smiled widely, ready to pat Robert
on the back. When Robert continued to look a little stunned
Dave asked, "What's up? Where did you hear that phrase anyway?"
"In a dream." Robert paused. "Dave? I don't speak
German."
"No kidding."
"Dave, how could I hear those words in a dream when I don't
speak German? All I know in German is 'kaputt' and 'sieg heil'
and I don't even know what 'sieg heil' means!"
"'To victory,'" Dave said absently. "Maybe you saw it in
a movie."
"Maybe," Robert agreed, but he wasn't at all convinced.
With a pensive look he stood and made his way back towards his
office, leaving his half-eaten lunch behind him.
Lucid Dreamer -- part 3
"There she is."
Robert looked up at Jim's warning. Yes, there she was,
the woman with the face of an angel and the ring on her finger.
Somehow the thrill of the moment just escaped him. Suddenly
the 'angel' became just another good looking woman awaiting
a bus.
"Somethin' botherin' you, today, Rob? You hardly looked
at her. "You sick or somethin'?"
"I'm okay. Just have a few things on my mind." Robert
lapsed back into silence and Jim let him be. That was one
of the nice things about Jim. He knew when to keep quiet.
It was strange how the 'angel' no longer affected him.
It probably had something to do with Trudi being there for
him. When something concrete comes into your life you tend
to forget about the fantasies. Robert smiled to himself. As
if Trudi wasn't fantasy, also. Well, at least he knew what
he meant.
"I think I'm only good for one tonight, Jim. I have a
lot to think about."
"No probs. You wanna talk to someone, lemme know."
"Thanks, Jim, I will."
They got off at the Gypsie Rose, but the gaiety of the
pub did little to raise Roberts spirits. After joining
Jim for a beer, he said his good-byes and walked out. His
leg wasn't bothering him much and he was grateful for that.
Suddenly an idea came to mind and he turned about and went
back in search of Jim.
"Ferget somethin'?"
"I wanted to ask you a question."
"Shoot."
"Have you ever dreamed in a different language?"
Jim slanted a look at Robert. "You pullin' my leg?"
"No. I'm serious." It was obvious that Jim never had.
"Well then, nope. But a couple o' times someone else spoke
in one. That what you mean--just some gibberish, not the whole
dream?"
"Exactly. What did they say?" Robert tried to block out
the noise of the pub.
Jim laughed. "How 'n hell should I know? I don' speak
no foreign languages."
"But what they said made sense?" Robert pressed him.
"Seemed to make sense to them, I guess. Dreams are funny,
you know." Jim took a closer look at Robert. "Say, is that
what's been botherin' you?"
"Sort of, yes."
"Hell, man, talkin' in gibberish is nothin'. Why, I once
had a dream where . . . ." And Jim was off, telling a story
as only he could. By the end they were both laughing so hard
that Jim could barely finish it.
Half an hour and another beer later, Jim walked out of
the Gypsie Rose feeling much better than when he'd gone in.
If Jim could have foreign language dreams and not be upset
about them, then so could he.
"I've been waiting for you. Just like I promised."
Robert opened his eyes and looked over to the other side
of the king-size bed where Trudi lay on her side, watching him.
She was naked--still naked? He gave a little groan. When he had
started this lucid dreaming experiment he hadn't realized that it
would happen so frequently or have such continuity. It was
almost like living two lives--his real one and the one with
Trudi.
"Are you tired of me already? Do you want me to go?" There
was a hint of sadness and regret in her voice.
"Hell, no. Don't move an inch. I'll be right over." Robert
moved across to her side of the mattress; cupped her face in his
hand, then ran it down across her shoulder, breast, stomach and
on until it lay on her hip. "If I had to choose between these
two worlds, I'd choose to be with you." She smiled up at him,
even as her body shuddered at his touch.
"Oh, Robert, that feels good. Both the touch and the
words." Trudi gave a sigh of contentment.
It didn't take much to keep another happy, Robert thought;
then he realized that he had been telling the truth. If he had
to choose between the two worlds, he would, indeed, choose her
and this dream world. He was a little tired of the other one.
Tired of the pain; tired of the loneliness; tired of just
keeping on living without a goal, without a dream.
"Ouch! Hey, what was that for?" She had pinched him.
"You think too much," Trudi laughed at him. "Too much
think, not enough do."
"Oh yeah?" he challenged her.
"Yeah!" she replied, hand moving forth to give him
another pinch.
"Well, how's this for 'doing'?" he asked as he
intercepted her, grabbing her wrists and pinning them to
the bed on either side of her head. His own head moved
down and his lips captured hers in a light kiss then moved
on, laying a barrage of kisses on her face, neck and shoulders.
"And this?" His tongue speared her ear, then he nibbled
on the lobe. She fought to free herself from his pin, but not
very hard. Not hard enough to get free--and he wasn't putting
much effort into keeping her captured. His interests lay
elsewhere.
"And this?" His mouth came down and captured a nipple.
One hand released a wrist and came down after the other nip,
while his other hand made for her head to softly stroke her
hair.
Trudi was too busy moaning and writhing under his
ministrations to answer. The hand which had been keeping her
breast company abandoned it and began to make great sweeping
strokes up and down her side, from her shoulder down to her
thigh. Her hands held his head to her breast and once again
twined themselves in his hair.
"And *this*?"
"Oh my!" Her body jerked as if hit by electricity as his
roving hand swept up her inner thigh to the heat of her. His
fingers stroked her outer lips for a time then pressed down
into her centre.
"Oh YES!"
With Trudi's cry, Robert felt something leap inside of
him. He felt her energy, and his own, jump to another plateau.
He nuzzled her neck and growled into it as his fingers continued
to explore their new playground: dallying here; touching there;
stroking and rubbing; finding all her secret places, making them
his own.
Her body shuddered again as he found her nub of joy and
lightly circled it before sliding across it, slippery with the
wetness of her.
Together they jumped to higher plateau, the energy now
dancing within them. And, after a moment's recovery from the
jump, Trudi began to give as good as she got. Her hands moved
to trace the muscles of his body; to stroke his face, his arms;
to find the hardness of him and to stroke it causing him to
groan the way he had caused her to.
"Now. Please, now. I want you in me now," Trudi implored
him and he was only too ready to do her bidding.
Her legs were parted and he moved between them and over
her. He was there, at her entrance, and her legs came up, heels
urging him onwards and in. Slowly, so as not to shock her, he
moved forward and her breath came out in a long hiss as he sank
deep within.
They were joined and the energy was going wild. Robert
could almost see it--could feel it--sparking between their
bodies as they moved together faster and faster. He could hear
low cries of joy and didn't know whether they were hers or his,
or whether it was the mingling of both--it didn't matter.
They were spiraling higher, leaping from level to level,
the energy sparking off them. It would be soon, he knew, and
she knew too. Their lips came together in a searing kiss
and their energies mingled and exploded.
Utterly exhausted, Robert opened his eyes momentarily
to seek out the picture on the wall. It was grey on grey
but in the dim light of the moon he seemed to see her eyes; and,
as his own eyes closed once more, he heard the echo of her voice
in his ear, softly whispering, "Thank you, lover," before sleep
overcame him.
"Gotcha!" Robert tackled her and they both fell, laughing,
amongst the fallen leaves. He pulled his way up her body,
fending off half-hearted blows to his head and shoulders, as
she tried to scramble back and pull away from him. The dry
leaves crackled under them as they struggled. Finally he had
her pinned, and he swooped down to take the victor's kiss.
"Okay. You win."
"Right!" Robert was elated. "And the winner says that
the loser has to disrobe."
"Here?" Trudi tried to appear shocked.
"Here." Robert spoke sternly.
"In the open?"
"In the open," he confirmed
"You're a brute," she complained, her face filled with
woe. She began undressing, tugging off her pullover. She
tossed it to him and started unwrapping her skirt. As Robert
folded the pullover--for use as a pillow--she tossed the
skirt over his head and jumped him.
"Sneak Attack!" she cried and twisted him about so he
lost his balance and they went crashing down into the leaves
once more. She scrambled on top of him, keeping him blinded
as he fought to free himself of the skirt.
Robert couldn't see anything and couldn't seem to make
any headway at getting the skirt from about his head, so he
changed tactics. His hands reached up and found her bra and
unsnapped it.
"Hey," she cried, "foul!"
"Tell it to the ref," he muttered as his hands found,
and began to rend, her panties.
"Brute," she cried again, holding on to his head, keeping
him wrapped. It was a brave battle she was fighting, but a
losing one. She cursed as she heard his zipper slide down.
"No," Trudi snarled, "you'll never take me--never!"
Robert turned them over and heard her grunt as she landed
on her back. He forced his way between her legs and freed
himself. Blindly he pushed forward until he found the place
he was seeking and gave a sudden thrust.
"Nooo!" Trudi wailed, as he entered her. The skirt came
off and he found himself looking into her distressed face.
"Ravished! Have you no shame, sir?" She was having great
difficulty keeping the laugh out of her voice.
"None whatsoever."
Trudi threw back her arms in abject defeat. She lay as if
spread-eagled, in the leaves, open and defenseless. "Then take
me, unchivalrous sir, take me and be done." She lifted her head
to whisper in his ear, "And take me hard!"
As Robert willingly complied, Trudi's arms and legs came
about him and she held on for dear life. Once again they leapt
from level to level, the energy flowing sweetly until it
discharged, leaving them both sated.
"Gods, woman," Robert marveled, sitting with his back to
a tree, "to think I once thought you staid and proper."
Trudi chuckled as she slipped the pullover back on and lay
down with her head in his lap. "Not staid, no. But always
proper. In this case properly outrageous."
Robert laughed softly with her, stroking her hair gently,
enjoying the feel of her head on his lap. He looked up at the
cloudless blue sky and settled back, more comfortably, into
the tree. He looked up into infinity.
As Robert's gaze came back from infinity he shook at the
sudden realization that he'd just had a waking dream. He
looked around him. The park was as it had been. People were
walking through the leaves; children were playing; the odd
dog wandered by, leading his human by a leash attached to
its hand. And he was there, sitting with his back to a tree.
His body was relaxed, enjoying the warmth of the autumn
sun. Yes, he was relaxed, as relaxed as he usually felt after
sex. Covertly, he looked down to ensure that he hadn't made
a mess of things while in the dream. He hadn't. His clothes
were fresh and dry.
Robert breathed in of the fresh clear air, then sighed as
he levered himself to his feet. It was time to go back home.
Favouring his leg, he began walking towards the park entrance,
paying no attention to others around him.
It was wild, this lucid dreaming. The last week had been
just wild. With every encounter Trudi had become more and more
at ease, more and more willing to do anything that he could
think of. There was nothing she wouldn't try. His dreams of
having an adventurous partner had come true with a vengeance.
Now, it seemed, they were no longer confined to his apartment
and to his sleeping hours.
"Hey, buddy, where have you been hiding lately?"
The voice brought him out of his reverie and he looked
over to see Dave walking towards him with . . . what was her
name? . . . Marty.
"Hello Dave, Marty. How are you?" Robert acknowledged
their greetings then defended himself. "Not hiding. Actually,
I'd say I've been exploring."
"Yeah? Well, try coming back down and mingling with the
masses every once in a while, too. Meditation may be good
for the soul, but you have to keep yourself grounded in
reality, too."
"Sure thing, Dave," he accepted the rebuke with good
grace. "So, Marty, how have things been going. Sorry about
the other week--I was feeling a bit down then."
"Dave told me about your accident, Robert," Marty
told him. "There's no need to apologize. I understand how
it could get you down from time to time."
"Dave has a big mouth. Here I was, ready to tell you
how I injured myself whilst rescuing a damsel in distress from
a fierce mountain lion; then Dave goes and spoils it all with
the truth." Robert sighed the sigh of the hard-done-by,
earning laughter from the others. "So, I guess it's too late
to make a play for your sympathy . . .?"
"'Fraid so," Marty laughed. "Dave already got most of
mine when he told me what he had to put up with . . . uh, that
was one of the things I wasn't s'posed to tell, right?" She
grinned as she kicked absently at the leaves.
"Off anywhere in particular?" Robert asked.
"Thought we'd take in a movie. There's a good one at the
Lux Theatre. Want to join us?"
Robert was sure that they didn't really want him along so
he begged off. It seemed that the two of them had a little more
in common than they'd first thought. He didn't really want to
go along, either. He wanted to head back home, get a little
something to eat, then see if he could repeat his waking dream
experience.
As Robert left the park, he wondered if he really was
getting too caught up in his dream world. Was he setting himself
up for a fall? It would be interesting to hear what a
psychiatrist would think of it all, but telling anyone at all
about his lucid dreaming was the last thing on his mind.
"Robert?"
"Yes, Sarah?" Sarah was the manager's secretary. It wasn't
often that she came into 'Accounting'.
"Mr. Wainwright would like to see you right away."
Robert was surprised. When Mr. Wainwright wanted to see
someone, it usually meant trouble. On the other hand, when it
'meant trouble' it wasn't usual for his secretary to be dispatched
to fetch the target.
"You wanted to see me, Mr. Wainwright?" Mr. Wainwright
didn't appear angry. Apprehensive, maybe; angry, no.
"Robert," Mr. Wainwright acknowledged him and stood. "Have
you anything urgent going on right now?"
"Nothing that someone else can't handle. What is it?"
"Your sister just called. Apparently your mother took a turn
and is in the hospital. Your sister is quite worried."
Robert felt his stomach jump. He hadn't even talked to his
mother is a couple of months. If she . . .
"There is a bus leaving at 2:45. I checked. If you want to
take off now I have your friend Dave waiting to drive you home.
You can pack and still catch the 2:45. Take all the time you
need. Just let us know how things are going and when we can
expect you back."
Robert didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected such
courtesy from someone like Wainwright.
"It's okay," Mr. Wainwright told him. "You do good work for
us, Robert. Anyway, you'd probably be no good to us if you were
worried." It was a throw-away line, downplaying any charitable
aspect of his role.
"Thank-you, sir. I guess I'd better get going."
Road signs flashed by unnoticed as the bus sped down the
highway. Inside, Robert tried to keep from thinking the worst.
He couldn't even remember the last time that he'd told his
mother that he loved her. Most of their conversations were
short and to the point. It was how his mother was. She didn't
believe in wasting money talking long-distance, so if what you
had to say wasn't pertinent, you'd be better off just not saying
it.
He stretched his leg, happy that he had an empty seat next
to him, and tried to relax. The motion of the bus and the
constant hum aided him in that. He wondered how his sister was.
She had been angry with him the last time they'd been together,
and they'd fought, but he couldn't remember what had started it.
Once they had started it had been about everything. Funny that
he had forgotten. Perhaps it mas better that way. He looked
deep within his memories, trying to recall better times.
It was going to be a long day and he was tired already. If
only he could sleep on the bus, but he couldn't. He'd never been
able to sleep on a bus.
"Are you going to ignore me all the way there?" Trudi asked
somewhat petulantly.
Robert turned in his seat to see her beside him. She was
dressed in traveling clothes which reminded him of movies from
the '40s.
He sighed. "I don't feel like playing games now. It's a
bad time. I'm . . . "
"You're worried. I know. I'm not here for games. You
need a friend right now, so I've come to reassure you."
"Reassure me?"
"Yes. Your mother is okay. She over-exerted herself
trying to finish up with the garden for the winter. It was a
mild heart-attack, but nothing serious. She was being a bit
foolish. She knows better. They'll try to get her to stop
smoking, but I doubt they'll have much success." Trudi smiled
at him.
Robert was astounded. "How do you know this?"
"I knew you'd be worried, so I went and checked on her
for you. So just relax. Yes, that's it, lean against me and
take my hand. We'll be there soon enough. Just relax."
He was awakened by the bus driver. It was the first time
he'd ever slept on a bus. The worry must have exhausted him,
he decided.
Karen was waiting there for him and he hugged her, holding
back just a little.
"It's good to see you again," he told her, all animosities
forgotten. He wasn't sure if she believed him.
"And you, Rob," she replied. They picked up his bag and
headed for her car. She gave him the news, "Mom's going to be
okay. I got the word about twenty minutes ago in the hospital.
So I came to meet you. She was working in the garden and
overdid it, I guess. The doctors think she had a very mild
heart-attack and that she'll be just fine. It's a warning,
that's all. We were lucky this time. Maybe we can get her to
quit smoking, they'd like that." Karen turned to look at Robert
who had stopped in his tracks. "What's wrong?"
Robert couldn't say. He couldn't say anything. He simply
allowed himself to be led to the car.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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