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 It is not to be published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,
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
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.
Lucid Dreamer -- part 4
"Have you made any plans as to where you are going to stay?"
Karen asked him.
"Not yet," Robert replied. "There was no time. As soon as
I found out about Mom, I just took off. I still haven't gone
that far in my thinking."
The setting sun cast long shadows as it shone down upon
them. Roger and Karen walked slowly towards the hospital parking
lot. Karen looked a little hesitant, Robert thought. Finally
she spoke.
"You could stay with Terry and me. We do have a spare
bedroom, you know."
It was classic, Robert thought. No one likes to be the
first to try and make up in case the peace offering is flung
back in one's face. Still, Karen had made the gesture and was
now awaiting his response.
"That would be great," he told her, and watched her relax.
"That way we could talk some, too."
Karen stopped. She looked up at him, wary but hopeful.
"You mean it?"
He smiled at her. "Yes. Tell you the truth, Karen, I
don't even remember what started the fight."
"It was about Linda at the start. I'm sorry, Robert. I
should have kept my big mouth shut. It wasn't any of my business
anyway. How is she?"
"Ah, yes. Now I remember. How could I have forgotten?"
he laughed quietly. "How is she? I don't know. I haven't seen
her in well over a year."
"Sorry."
"Nah, don't be. It's over, I've moved on." Robert looked
around. "Where did we park, anyway? When you don't drive you
get out of the habit of trying to remember where you parked."
"Over here." Karen led him over to the car. She unlocked
the passenger door. "When did you stop driving?"
"Almost two years ago, now." He got in, favouring his
leg. After closing his door he reached across to unlock hers.
Karen walked around and got in. "Did you hurt your leg?"
"It's just a little sore," he answered as she started the
car and began to back up.
They maintained a comfortable silence all the way to her
house. Robert looked around constantly, noticing the changes
and that which had remained the same. It was a nice town, small
city really, but he was glad that he had left. He much preferred
the big city.
Karen pulled into her driveway and turned off the engine
but didn't make a move to open the door. Inside, lights blazed
and Robert knew that Karen wanted to say something before they
went in and met Terry.
"It hurt, you know, when you didn't even come home for
Christmas. Mom was upset and I felt bad 'cause I was to blame.
No. Let me finish," she held up her hand as Robert was about
to interject a comment. "We had our fights before, but never
anything like that. I didn't mean to make you feel unwelcome
here and I want you to know how very sorry . . ."
"Stop." It was Robert's turn to hold up his hand. "The
first Christmas I missed because I was busy. It had nothing
to do with you."
"Busy?"
Robert laughed, a little bit of the residual bitterness
coming through. "Yeah, busy. I was busy learning to walk
again."
"What?" Surprise then shocked understanding appeared on
Karen's face.
"Drunk driver. About a month after Thanksgiving--middle
of November, I guess. He blew a red light and creamed me.
They patched me up the best they could, but my leg was pretty
bad. Last Christmas I was depressed and just didn't want to
see anyone. Christmas'll do that to you sometimes."
"We never knew, Robert, I swear we never knew."
"I know. I told Linda I'd already told you, and you
weren't on her favourites list at the time, so she just
left well enough alone." Robert shrugged. "Ancient history.
Let's go in."
Karen wasn't quite so ready to let it drop. "And if
Mom hadn't had the heart-attack, when would you have gotten
around to telling us?"
"I don't know. I only told you now 'cause it'll be
obvious enough for you to start asking questions. Today is
a good day, it hardly shows. I don't have all that many
really good days." He opened the door to forestall any
further questions, then got out.
"Robert," Karen fixed him with her gaze as she closed
her door, "we're family. We're here for you. You don't have
to go it alone with everything."
"I'm doing okay," he lied, a lightness in his voice that
he didn't feel. "Let's go in before Terry gets the wrong idea
about who we're talking about."
Yes, the fight had started with Linda as the main subject
of discussion, but he had brought Terry into it as well and
hurtful things had been said on both sides. After that
anything had been fair game and it seemed as if every single
old resentment had had its turn in the limelight. Not a wonder
that they hadn't spoken in almost two years. The funny thing
was, Robert thought, that none of it seemed to matter at all
any more.
He caught a glimpse of Terry through the window, looking
rather ill at ease. No wonder about that either. Terry had been
there for the start of the fight, lending moral support to Karen
until Karen signaled that she'd handle him alone.
They stepped in the front door, into the living room, and
Terry appeared at the kitchen doorway. She looked nervous
and uncertain.
"Hello, Terry," Robert nodded formally. "I see you
are still taking good care of my sister."
"We take care of each other." She was wary, cautious,
probably hoping they would be able to get through his visit
with a minimum of unpleasantness.
"I find that's the best way, myself," Robert agreed.
"Karen's lucky to have you." He was glad he said that when
he caught the look of gratitude which Karen sent his way.
Terry started to relax a little as well.
Karen went over to Terry to give her a kiss hello and
Robert couldn't help but think that they looked good together.
He didn't understand it--would probably never understand it--but
it was their choice not his. He would respect it. Yes, he
would respect it, just as he hoped Karen would respect his own
choices. He had grown a lot in the last two years, he
realized. The accident and its repercussions had given him
plenty of time to think and plenty to think about.
"I've made some supper," Terry told them. "You probably
haven't had time to eat and must be hungry."
"That was very thoughtful of you," Robert told her. "I'm
famished."
Terry, realizing--much to her wonder, no doubt--that
there was unlikely to be any unpleasantness, became more
animated.
"So, how is your mother?" she asked Robert as she led
them to the diner table.
"She's a feisty old bird," he laughed. "Wanted to go
home right away; didn't want to spend the night and, when we
told her she'd have to, she asked us to smuggle her in some
cigarettes."
"Sounds like her, all right."
After dinner Karen and Robert remained at the table and
caught up on what was happening in each other's lives. Terry
made herself inconspicuous, giving brother and sister some time
to be together. Finally, though, she sat down and joined them.
"You are going to be some tired, tomorrow, love," she
finally told Karen.
At that, all three looked at their watches. It *was*
getting late. Karen showed Robert to his room, provided him
with towels and such, then hugged him good night. Exhausted, he
went straight to bed.
Although very tired, sleep didn't come easily and he tossed
and turned for what seemed like--and could have been--hours.
Then, shortly after sleep finally did come, he was awakened by
sounds from the other room. At first he couldn't place them, but
soon they became quite familiar. He grinned. Poor Karen was
going to have to make due with less sleep than usual. After a
muted crescendo, silence filled the house. It wasn't long after
that that he fell into a troubled sleep.
The vibrations were upon him once again, but he didn't
want to give in this time. There were things he had to find
out first. He fought to wake himself up and the vibrations
shook him like they had those first few times.
He didn't give in. He had to escape it, had to move,
had to do something, anything. Suddenly there was another
focus, and the vibrations died.
"Robert." The voice penetrated. Damn. She had him
again. "Robert!" The voice was louder now, but it wasn't
Trudi, he realized. His eyes snapped open and he saw
Terry leaning over him, concern written on her face.
"'S'okay," he groaned, "I'm awake."
"It was just a bad dream," she told him, trying to
ground him in reality. It wasn't, but how could he tell
her that? He merely nodded his agreement.
"Have to get up," he told her. If he didn't, there was
a possibility that he'd drift back to sleep and right back
into it. It had happened before. He flung the covers aside
and swung his legs out and sat up. He missed the wince on her
face as she saw the scars, but couldn't help but hear her sharp
intake of breath.
"Yeah, looks bad, but I'm used to it." He pulled on a
t-shirt and then allowed her to steady him as he got to his
feet and limped out of the room and down the hall to the
kitchen. He plunked himself down at the table and rubbed
his bleary eyes.
"Thanks." Terry had placed a cup of coffee before him.
"You're welcome."
Robert looked up at her and caught an amused smile on
her face.
"What is it?"
"Sorry, but you look like hell."
Robert chuckled. "Feel like hell, too." He looked up at
her. She was already dressed. He looked out the window to the
bright daylight. He had slept in. He grinned. "I may look
like hell, but you, you have that certain glow about you."
"Shit." Terry blushed. "I thought we were being quiet.
I'm sorry . . ."
"If that was quiet, the house must really shake on your
good days," Robert teased. "But I don't believe you did think.
If you had thought, you would have sent someone in to keep me
occupied so I wouldn't have noticed anything."
Terry choked on her orange juice.
"Or, you could have come in to see me first so I'd have
been too tired to even have cared--but I guess Karen wouldn't
have understood. Ah, well."
Terry recovered and gave him a very thoughtful look.
"Instead of that you kept poor Karen awake half the night,
then sent her off to work, probably with a self-satisfied
smirk plastered all across her face."
"You *have* changed."
Robert sobered. "We all change. Speaking of work, how
is yours coming along?"
"My stuff gets published quite regularly. The money isn't
great but, between the two of us, we get by. Being free-lance,
I spend a good deal of time at home, work my own hours. All
in all we're happy."
"That's the important thing." He drained the coffee. "I'm
glad for you."
Terry's eyes misted and she moved over to him and gave him
a kiss on the cheek, much to his surprise. "Thanks, Robert."
She composed herself. "Now, is there anything I can get for you?
Some more coffee? Some breakfast? A brunette?"
Robert froze.
"Did I say something wrong?"
"No. But there is something you can do for me. Can you
take me to the library? I have to do some research. Maybe I
can get it done before visiting hours."
"No problem. I'm quite familiar with the Library. Maybe
I could help."
"Here it is," Terry informed him. They had a stack of
newspapers spread out over the table. "Only it isn't Trudi,
it's Gertrude Bauer. Born 1922 in Essen, Germany; died just
over a month ago. Came here in 1938. Not survived by anyone.
Never married. Left her estate to an orphan's fund.
"Who is she, Robert? Did you know her?"
"I met her a few weeks ago." He ignored Terry's astonished
expression. "She's been haunting my dreams."
"Tell me more." Terry was intrigued.
"I'm not sure I want to." Terry waited patiently, not
saying anything. Robert shrugged. "I got a picture from her
estate at an auction. It is of her as a young woman--very
pretty. Some time later I started having dreams about her."
"That doesn't sound strange to me. You're lonely,
maybe you just needed someone to dream about, and then this
picture shows up."
"I'd agree with you, except I never knew whose picture
it was. Still, the woman in my dreams told me she was 'Trudi
Bauer' and that she had been born in Germany."
"Perhaps you heard it on the TV or read it in the paper,"
Terry suggested.
"I don't read the papers." Robert sat back, his hands over
his eyes as if trying to blot out the incursion of reality into
his dream world. "I don't watch TV and I don't listen to the
radio, much."
"You're not telling me everything, are you?"
"Hell, no." He began putting the papers back in order.
"It's time for me to go to the hospital. As long as you are
still here, could you give me a lift?"
"Absolutely."
"So, what aren't you telling me about Trudi?" Terry was
eager to know.
Robert looked over at her, liking the way her long, light
brown hair blew in the breeze from the open window. He had
wasted a lot of time and effort hating this woman and his
sister. Too bad, but that was then and this was now--as the
song went. He didn't know how far he could trust her, but
there was no one else he could tell--felt comfortable about
telling--and he did want to tell someone. At least she lived
far enough away that, if he made a mistake, it probably wouldn't
do any lasting damage.
"Okay. I fell asleep on the bus and she came into my dream,
telling me that my mother was all right, telling me almost
exactly what Karen told me when I arrived." What could be
crazier than that, he wondered. They passed a bakery and
he could smell the aroma of fresh bread and wished that he'd
eaten something before haring off to the Library.
"I have two possibilities for you. I don't know if
you'll like either one. First, maybe she's a ghost. What
do you think of that?"
"Well it's probably better than number two which is
that I'm crazy."
"No. Possibility number two is that somehow you and
Karen connected. She knew you were coming and she was
rehearsing what she was going to tell you. You heard it
through the woman in your dream." Terry grinned and
looked over at him as she pulled into the Hospital parking
lot. "Of course, in either case, you could still be crazy."
"Thanks a lot."
Terry turned off the ignition. "So, these dreams of
yours--they raunchy?"
Robert blushed. He looked at her a long time before
deciding to speak. "I've found that I can control certain
aspects of certain dreams." He paused, wondering how to
go on.
"Like the ones with Trudi?" Her eyebrows were raised.
"Yep."
"And these dreams with Trudi are raunchy." It was more
a statement than a question.
"Decidedly." That was all he was prepared to say on the
subject. Terry must have recognized this, for she asked no
more questions. She merely looked thoughtful. Robert exited
the car and was surprised when Terry did likewise. "You don't
have to wait for me. I'll find my own way back."
"Robert?" He stopped and turned to face her. There was
something in her voice which told him that this was important.
"You shared something with me that you must have found difficult
to share. So I'll share something with you.
"My family never accepted me after I 'came out'. It hurt,
it still hurts. That little old woman, up there in the hospital,
and Karen are all the family I have." Robert noticed that there
were tears in her eyes. "So I'm not 'waiting for you', I'm here,
just like you are, going up to see how 'Mom' is. Okay?"
Robert nodded, but made no move to head for the hospital.
There was more to it than that. Tears were now flowing freely
down Terry's cheeks.
"But that's not why I'm crying. I'm crying because today
is a special day. Today you showed me that you accepted me, too.
Today I found out that I have a brother." She stifled a little
sob and went digging in her purse for a tissue.
Robert let out his breath in a long sigh. "Come on and
dry your face, then let's go see how 'Mom' is.
'Mom' was chaffing at being restricted to the hospital.
The sun had long since set when the bus passed the city
limits sign. Robert had had a lot to think about during the
trip but didn't know if he was any further ahead for all that
thought.
The visit with his mother had gone very well. The old
lady was surprised to see Terry with him and overjoyed to
see how well they were getting on together. She only commented
on it once--while Terry was out of the room--telling Robert
what a fine young woman Terry was and that she was proud of him
for putting aside their differences and recognizing it.
The doctor told Robert that his mother would be going home
the next day and that everything looked fine. She should just
take it a little easier for a while. That being the case,
Robert decided that it would be best for him to get back to
work. He couldn't afford to miss too many days, and he'd be
back to visit soon--and definitely at Christmas.
Karen had joined them when she got off work and she and
Terry took Robert out for dinner before depositing him on
the bus for his return journey.
"Remember, you are welcome at our place anytime," Karen
had told him, then gave him a long hug. Terry had concurred
and the hug had been repeated with her.
It was good to have family, even if they were a goodly
distance away. Perhaps, he chuckled to himself, that was even
better. That way there wasn't enough time together to grate
on each other's nerves.
Terry. He shook his head. He'd never thought that he
would actually like her. Accept her as Karen's partner, yes;
like her, no. But like her he did. And she had given him
an idea. Next time he was in a dream with Trudi, why not just
ask her point blank about what was going on? It was a good
idea.
The bus rolled to a stop at the traffic light just before
the corner to the depot entrance. Another bus, which had just
left the depot pulled up along side it. Robert looked across
to the other bus straight into the eyes of a woman looking
back.
They both must have felt it, for their gazes locked and
remained locked. Robert felt his stomach leap. He'd never
before believed in love at first sight, but now he believed,
though he wouldn't recognize it as such for a while. Before
either of them could recover from the shock, the light changed
and his bus turned while hers continued straight on, out of
town.
Robert cursed the Fates. Why couldn't they have both been
coming in? The chances of him ever seeing her again were next
to nil. He considered that a moment. Of course, he thought
wryly, he might just see her in a dream. He knew whose face
he'd be concentrating on for a while--and it wasn't Trudi's.
Lucid Dreamer -- part 5
It had been three nights of concentrating on his memory
of the woman in the bus before the vibrations came again. They
were much weaker than before and Robert had to really concentrate
on them; had to very consciously slip into them and direct them
up and down his body before he was able to achieve the lucid
dreaming state.
He opened his eyes and got to his feet, leaving the sofa
where he'd gone to sleep. He looked around the room. It was
empty and it felt empty, too. Where was the woman from the
bus? Perhaps she was awaiting him in his bedroom, he thought,
though he didn't believe this. It just didn't feel right.
His bedroom was as empty as the rest of the apartment.
He was very disappointed. As he turned to leave he caught
sight of Trudi's photograph. Why hadn't the other woman been
here as Trudi had been when he had concentrated on her? Although
he was a little frightened of learning more about Trudi--and a
little scared of her now--he couldn't help thinking with a
certain fondness about the times they had shared. A little
melancholy came over him at the thought of not seeing her again.
She had been such a great partner in . . .
"Hi, Robert. I've missed you. And you've been avoiding
me. Have you just called me to tell me it's all over?" There
was bitterness in Trudi's voice.
Robert spun around to see her come walking through the
door. She was a striking woman, he noted once again, but
this time there wasn't the beauty that he was used to seeing.
Her mouth turned down and he kicked himself for not remembering
her apparent ability to read his thoughts. He tried to think
of nothing, while still wondering why Trudi had shown up in
this dream and the woman from the bus hadn't.
"You're learning," she granted. "So, what's the story,
Robert?"
"I wasn't really expecting you in my dream this time," he
finally replied. She gave forth a half amused, half bitter
smile.
"So, then, who were you expecting?"
It was difficult saying anything. It was as bad as
breaking up with a girlfriend. He thought for what seemed a
long time, trying to come up with the right words. At last
he decided to tell the simple truth. It was who he was, even
if he wasn't so sure she deserved it. *She* had definitely
been holding out on *him*.
"I was concentrating on someone I saw, trying to have her
enter my dream. I saw her for a moment and something clicked
between us. I've never felt quite like that before in my
life."
Trudi gave a long sigh. It was the sigh of someone
accepting the inevitable. "All right. I suppose it had to
happen. So, would you like some help getting her into your
dream?"
Robert was puzzled. "You can do that?"
"Why don't we try to find out. Is that what you want,
or not?"
"Yes."
"Okay, then open up to me, don't hide your thoughts.
Just relax . . . that's right. Now close your eyes; remember
this woman of yours and concentrate on her face so I can see it,
too. Good, good. Now, recall your feelings when you saw her.
Very good." Trudi paused for a long while and Robert wondered
what was going on.
Upon opening his eyes he saw *her*. She was lying in bed,
fast asleep. It wasn't his bed--it wasn't even anywhere he had
ever been before. But it was her and he felt the joy well up
in him. He concentrated on her, willing her to get up and
converse with him. She lay there and slept. That shouldn't
have happened. It was his dream and he was in control, ergo
she should have done as he willed. Unless . . . .
Robert felt a sudden chill as he turned to face Trudi
who had, it appeared, accompanied him. She looked intently
at him, reading him, it seemed.
"This isn't a lucid dream, is it?" he asked, not really
wanting the answer he knew he was going to get.
"As you know the term, no it isn't." Trudi's eyes held
his in a grip he couldn't break.
His voice, when it finally came, was hushed. "Who are
you?"
"Trudi Bauer."
"Trudi Bauer--Gertrude Bauer--is dead."
"Yes."
There was a long silence.
"Why are you hiding your thoughts from me, now, Robert?"
Trudi seemed merely curious, not menacing at all.
"I'm a little scared of you," he answered truthfully.
Trudi laughed as if his statement was ridiculous and
delightful all in one. "Am I not the one to whom you've made
love in many wonderful ways? Have I ever done anything to
make you fear me? Haven't I acceded to your every whim?"
Robert felt a little ridiculous. All that was true. But,
before, he had thought he had known what was happening. He
hadn't--and that frightened him.
"Tell you what, liebchen, we'll go back to your place and
I'll try to explain things to you. First, however, you should
make the most of this opportunity. Look at your new lady love.
Caress her hair. Say some nice things to her.
Robert felt very self-conscious, what with Trudi still
there, yet very eager to do just what she suggested. He moved
over to the bed and looked down upon his new love.
"Hi, Darling. I wish you could hear me," he whispered to
her as he stroked her hair. "I haven't been able to stop
thinking of you since we saw each other." He allowed his
fingers to trace her eyebrows, slip down her cheekbone and
down to trace the outline of her jaw. "I desire, with all
my heart, to see you again. Remember that. I'm looking for
you, Darling." He kissed his fingertips then touched them
to her lips. "I'm looking for you."
Trudi's hand on his shoulder made him aware of her
presence once more. "Take my hand and close your eyes."
He opened his eyes and they were back in his bedroom.
He released Trudi's hand. A flicker of sadness crossed her
face, then was gone.
It was that flicker of sadness which did it. It was the
same sadness which he saw in her photograph, the sadness which
had drawn him to her in the beginning. He took a leap of faith.
He didn't know who or what she was or what she wanted, but this
being was not a threat to him. Robert stepped forward and put
his arms around her, pulling her close. She tensed for a
moment, then relaxed into him the way she had done so often.
They stood like that for a long time, feeling each other's
warmth.
"Are you a ghost, Trudi?" He wasn't sure if he even
believed in ghosts.
Trudi giggled. "I don't think so, though it's possible
I could be considered one. Come with me into the living room
and then we'll see what you think."
They walked into the living room. It was the same living
room he'd lived in for the past four years. Not much had
changed.
"Look at your sofa," Trudi directed.
Robert obeyed her. He started. There was someone lying
on his sofa! He looked closer and then did a double take.
It was he! He was lying on his sofa.
"So, Robert. Tell me, are *you* a ghost?" There was a
tinkle of laughter in her voice. Her laughter reassured him.
He had been prepared to be very frightened. The laughter took
away the fear.
"What's going on?" he finally managed to croak out.
"I believe the term is Out Of Body Experience."
"And this is what I've been doing all along? I've never
been lucid in my dreams?" Many answers were breaking on
Roberts shore.
"With me, of a surety. Other than that, I don't know, you
may have had lucid dreams."
"But," Robert protested, "you've done everything I wanted,
without my asking."
"You were not hiding your thoughts, liebchen. I did as
you wished me to do because I wanted to please you."
"You were reading my mind," he accused her, horribly
embarrassed that he'd allowed her into his deepest fantasies.
"I wouldn't call it that."
"Then what would you call it?" He was angry now.
"You were broadcasting. Accusing me of mind-reading is
the same as shouting at your dinner partner then accusing the
other diners of eavesdropping."
Robert was taken aback. "You used me, tricked me."
"You used me," she countered. "Used my body . . . such
as it is," she giggled once again.
"That's something else. How is this possible . . ."
"Your thoughts are very concrete, liebchen. It was not
this way for me . . ."
"What?" Robert interrupted. "What do you mean?"
"Please, Robert, we've done enough talking for now. I
would like you to hold me, to make love to me again."
Robert looked at her, hiding his thoughts behind his newly
acquired shield. He didn't know if he could.
Trudi looked at him long and consideringly. He merely
stood there and looked back.
"What is the matter, Robert?"
"I don't know what to do, what to say to you."
She smiled, encouragingly. "It is just the same as it
was before."
"No. It isn't. You are not the same person."
Trudi laughed. "Of course I am."
Robert was forced to see the ridiculousness of his
statement and grinned. "I guess you are, but my perception
of you is entirely different. For me you are a different
person. It would be like the first time . . ."
"I see." She considered that for a moment then a wide
smile came across her face.
It was not a smile he had seen before. This smile betokened
something more mischievous, more confident, more . . . more . . .
he couldn't put his finger on the difference.
"Good." With a very saucy smile she beckoned him to her.
As he approached she led him into the bedroom. Where before her
her hips had teased him with their slight sway, now they drew
him forth with a motion that was fuller, bolder. It almost
entranced him. Trudi stopped and turned to face him. She licked
her lips in, what seemed to him, a predatory fashion. He stopped
short.
"Come closer, Robert," she ordered and smiled victoriously
as he complied.
"Now, stroke my hair--the way you know I like it done.
Run your fingers through it, and over my neck."
Unable to resist her command, Robert did as he was ordered.
It all felt different to him. Even her reactions to the same
stroking seemed different. Still, there was no doubt that she
enjoyed it. There was no doubt that he was pleasing her.
The pleasure of pleasing her came from an different quarter,
however. Robert paused a moment to analyze it. He laughed out
loud. He had it. He wasn't in control, now, she was. It was
turnabout. And if she thought she could get away with it . . .
she was right! After all, he thought, turnabout was fair play.
She had allowed him to use her, now he could repay the great
favour which that had been.
"You are keeping your thoughts from me again," Trudi
commented.
"Yes, ma'am, I am. Do you mind?"
Trudi's face lit with the knowledge that he was playing
the game. "Not at all." Her fingers went to his shirt and
began unbuttoning it. That done, she stepped around him and
pulled it off his shoulders, kissing his back as it became
visible.
Robert shivered. From this perspective, the kisses
were different, too. They were more proprietary. She closed
with him and hugged him. Her hands went down to his belt and
undid it. That was quickly followed by the unsnapping of his
jeans and the unzipping. She gave him a moment to appreciate
what was to come next, then pulled his pants and underpants
to the floor in one swift move. At her nudge he stepped out
of them and she threw them into the corner of the room.
As Trudi rose, her hands played across his shins, his
thighs, the hardness of him and on past his stomach to his
chest. She released him and turned him around to face her.
Her eyes glowed. She looked down at his hardness and
smiled her new smile. "Close your eyes." He complied.
His eyes snapped open as she jumped him, driving him back
onto the bed. She was without her top, now, wearing only her
skirt. She heaved on him and he was suddenly in the centre of
the bed; looking up, in surprise, into her amused eyes.
Trudi straddled him and he became aware that she wore
no under garments, which excited him further. She held his
wrists and pinned them on the bed slightly above his head, which
put her breasts right above his mouth. It was a temptation he
couldn't resist--especially as he knew it had been done
deliberately.
Robert opened his lips, raised his head and began to treat
first one nipple than the other with all the passion they
deserved.
"Oh, yes," Trudi gasped. "Do it, Robert, do it."
Before he was finished, before he had time to do what he
deeply desired to do, she pulled away and sat upright. She
reached behind her and grabbed him, eliciting a gasp of
mixed surprise and pleasure.
She locked her gaze on his and very slowly, very
deliberately rose up, positioned him, and even more slowly
sank down, enveloping him. He was hers! He was hers and she
knew it. She knew it and she reveled in the knowledge.
Within her warm, moist depths, Robert remained motionless.
Finally she began the movement, the dance, and he followed her
lead. She acted and he reacted.
Robert groaned as she picked up the pace yet again. He
didn't know how much longer he could hold out. His hands,
long since freed, roamed up and down her front, touching and
tasting her breasts, supporting her as she moved to her own
music. Through slitted eyes he saw the joy and the ecstasy
move across her face, reflected by the tremors and movements
of her body.
The energy was rising in him once again and he could
sense it mirrored in her. They were moving towards completion
and nothing and no one could stop it now. Every sense was
alive and heightened.
Trudi was bathed in sweat and she looked truly beautiful
as she moved up and down him. Suddenly he wanted nothing more
than to see her climax on him, to watch her release all that
energy and then to make those last few strokes within her before
climaxing himself.
There was a small hesitation in her movement, then she
stepped the pace up yet again. Robert's eyes opened to see a
look of intensity on Trudi's face, the like of which he had not
before seen.
He had broadcast his thoughts, he knew, and she was
determined to thwart him, to make him come first. It was now
a competition. A laugh escaped him as an irreverent thought
floated past: A gentleman always rises to the occasion.
He had done it! She was just moments away from eruption.
He could feel it through every fibre of his being. But, gods,
he was close, too.
"Noooo!" his cry escaped his lips as his body jumped,
the pent up energy flowing from him to her. As the second
spasm hit, he jerked upright, wrapped his arms about her and
dragged her, her arms raised in victory, down and into her
own release.
It seemed to go on and on, the mingling of energies.
Robert's body shook as spasm after spasm rocked it, draining
him completely. His last aware thought, before he drifted
into oblivion, was of how beautiful her voice sounded as it
intoned his name, as she said over and over, "Thank-you,
Robert, my sweet, thank-you."
Lucid Dreamer -- part 6
It was a weird feeling, Robert thought, having one
girlfriend helping him to get another one. During his waking
hours he often wondered why Trudi was helping him when she *had*
to know that if he ever met his 'lady-love' (as Trudi called
her), she would probably lose him. When with Trudi he
refrained from asking, fearing that she might stop helping.
Trudi lay on top of him, exhausted from the merry chase
he had led her before she had caught and taken him and from
the taking itself. They looked at each other and began to
laugh quietly. It had been an unexpected bit of fun.
"Mind if I ask you a question?" Robert was unsure of
the wisdom of this, yet his curiosity wouldn't let it be.
Trudi sobered and ran her fingers through his hair,
brushing it back so she could better see his face. "It is
an important question, isn't it?"
Robert considered that. "Yes, I guess it is--to me."
"Ask away."
"Why are you helping me seek out my lady-love?" He had
opened a bit more than he had wanted to and knew that she had
caught it all.
"I've already lost you, as you put it. No, don't look
sad," she murmured and stroked his face tenderly. "From the
moment you first saw her I paled in comparison. If I were
to try to hinder your search, you would have nothing more to
do with me--and rightly so. If I were to try to make you
forget about her, I would be fighting a losing battle." She
lay her head down on his chest. "So I do neither of these
things. But I refrain not because I know I would lose."
"Then why do you refrain?" Robert felt deep within that
she was telling the truth, that she was hiding nothing.
"I refrain for the same reason I help. I *want* you to
find her. You have done so much for me that anything I can
do for you is a joy."
Robert began running his hands up and down Trudi's back,
slowly massaging away any tensions which were left over from
their play. He enjoyed the feel of her on him and wanted to
give back some of that enjoyment. Then it clicked that this
was precisely what she had just finished saying. How
interesting.
"I don't understand. What have I done for you? It is
you who have done so much for me."
Trudi laughed and Robert felt, as well as heard, her
laughter. "You have never asked me for my story. Perhaps you
feared to know it, feared it would further change the way you
thought of me." She grinned at him, then continued, "Especially
when you would be forced to face the fact that I died at age
seventy-five." She laughed again, a cheerful laugh. "So, you
are getting it on with a very old lady, you see."
"You don't look or feel old to me," Robert told her, yet
he recognized that this was one of the things he'd been
suppressing, trying not to think of.
"Good. Then you've learned one lesson. Age really does
mean very little. The body ages, but that which makes us who
we really are does not age. It only grows. Hmmm, something
else is growing, I think. But it is not time for that. It is
time for a story. I'll make it short.
"Trudi Bauer, as a young woman, fell in love with a young
man. She was sixteen when her parents, who did not approve of
this growing relationship, sent her away to end it. They sent
her far across the sea to live with her aging aunt. The young
man was not happy about this and he had his revenge. You see,
Trudi's parents were moderates in an time and place where it
was dangerous to be moderate. The young man was a fanatic in a
land of fanatics and he ensured that the parents paid for their
transgression.
"All it took was a word or two in the right place and one
dark night men came and took Trudi's parents away. They lived
for a time, but I suspect it was not pleasant being alive. Soon
they no longer lived. Word eventually reached Trudi as to their
fate and as to what had precipitated it. She was crushed by the
betrayal and her trust of men took a terrible hit. If the man
she loved could do something so vile, what were others capable
of? Soon after there was war and it was not easy being an enemy
national during a war. It was a position of no power and others
tried to take advantage of that. They tried and failed for she
grew stronger with adversity.
"Shortly after the war the aunt died and left her estate
to the young woman. That woman was determined never again to
be in a position where there was no power. She looked about
her and saw that, once married, there was very little power for
a woman, so she never married. There were suitors, but mostly
they were after her money and what remaining trust she had in
her fellow man departed quickly. She lived alone and, in the
end, she died alone.
"However, during this lonely life the woman named Trudi
Bauer began to experiment with altered states of being and
eventually began to have what are now labeled 'Out of Body
Experiences'. She had enough experience with them that she
realized that when the body died all did not die with it.
Thus, when the body finally did die, Trudi elected to remain
around familiar environs for a time.
"During that time she became aware of another whose
thoughts focused on an aspect of what she once was. This
intrigued her and she decided to investigate. The thinker
was a young man and she decided to try and help him to get
out of his body so she could ask him just what the attraction
was.
"Out of body there was not the great fear of men that
there was in the body, so Trudi decided to see if she could
experience, with this young man, some of what she had missed
during her time corporeal.
"Yet it seemed nothing had changed. This man, like all
the rest, merely wanted her for what she could do for him.
It was a sorrow to her, for she had heard of relationships
where that was not the case, though she had never really
believed it--no matter how desperately she had wanted to
believe. In any event, Trudi decided to go along with this
man's desires in order to experience that which she had never
before experienced. For, unlike herself or the others whom
she had met out of body, this man thought in extremely concrete
terms. To be in his domain was almost exactly as it was to be
in the body. Thus it was that she determined to allow this one
to use her, as painful as that might be."
Robert held himself very still and kept his thoughts well
shielded. He wrapped his arms around the much smaller woman
and held her close, feeling her breath enter and leave her
body. He hadn't had an inkling. What she must have thought
of him!
"But a strange thing happened. Even though she had
relinquished the power to him and made ready to obey his
slightest whim, this man saw into her thoughts, thoughts
which were shielded from him; and, instead of demanding that
which he could demand, he turned about and acquiesced to *her*
desires, came forward to fill *her* needs."
Robert felt a lump forming in his throat. He said
nothing for he knew there was more coming and he said nothing
for he didn't know if he would be able to say anything. Then
he felt the first tear fall from her eye and onto his chest.
He fractionally tightened his hold on her.
Trudi stopped using the third person to talk about herself
and him. "You allowed me to gently go where I wished to go and
at my own speed. You allowed this even though you thought I
was merely a part of your dreaming--a mere figment of your
imagination. Such a gift you gave! Now, when you desire to
make this same journey yourself, how could I do anything but
aid you in any way I can?"
Trudi pulled herself together, putting her thoughts of
their relationship on hold. She sat up on him and asked,
So, my friend, shall we make another foray to your lady-love's
side and see if you can get through this time?"
Robert nodded, closed his eyes and concentrated on
his lady-love. He opened his eyes and they were there, once
more in her room. The room had become familiar. He glanced
about.
The door was closed, as usual. The curtains were also
closed, also as usual. Yet, though they were closed, they
let in some of the light from the moon and street lamps for
they were not heavy. Thus, as usual, he would be able to
see her outline in the bed . . .
"Gods above!" He turned to look at Trudi whose face
was a mirror to his astonishment. His lady-love was lying
on top of the covers--naked.
Trudi's astonishment faded into her knowing smile.
"She's waiting for you," she leered at him. "Take advantage."
"I can't . . . what do you mean she's waiting for me?"
"You have a mind; use it."
Robert drew in upon himself to figure out what Trudi
was talking about. Slowly memories came back to him.
His lady-love lay sleeping, the blankets drawn up to her
chin. Trudi sat in the background watching. He approached
his lady-love and he gently stroked her face and hair--as
much as it could be called stroking. He allowed his energy
patterns to mingle with those of the sleeping woman. Trudi
had informed him that some of those who were sensitive could
feel that sort of touch.
His lady-love exhibited no signs of feeling anything.
She continued to sleep, her sleep undisturbed, even as he told
her of his joy at finding her even if only in an ethereal state.
Again his kissed his fingers and touched them to her lips and
again he told her that he was still looking for her, asked her
to remember that he was looking for her.
His lady-love lay sleeping, the blankets drawn up to her
collar-bones, her neck reflecting the light, a lovely sight
to him. He approached and gently touched her brow, willing her
to know that he was still searching diligently for her.
And he was, he thought. He took busses everywhere, looking,
always looking. He wished that he could just walk outside of
her house/apartment, whatever, and look around--walk up to
a street sign, perhaps--but that wasn't how it worked. At
least that wasn't how it worked with him. Trudi told him that
it was her impression that 'Lady-love' lived within the city;
so, within the city he searched. He had even put an ad in the
classifieds--there had been no respondents.
Lady-love's hair was fanned out upon the pillow like an
aureole, framing her face. It was a face which spoke to him
in voices unheard, in words never before said. He swallowed
hard.
Lady-love lay sleeping. Her t-shirt, being used as a
night-gown, did little to hide the curves of her upper body.
It was a sight which Robert appreciated, even given the dimness
of the light. As he stroked the length of her bare arms it
seemed to him that her nipples hardened a little. They seemed
more prominent--perhaps it was merely that his eyes were becoming
accustomed to the low light.
Lady-love lay sleeping. Her lacy night-gown did little
to hide her lovely nipples. He could see the outline of her
pubic hair through it as well. As he sat by her side on the
bed and touched her she gave forth with a little moan. Her
nipples were definitely engorged, pressing up against the
night-gown. He passed his hand over them and she moaned once
more, startling him.
A close look at her closed eyes told him that she was
in REM sleep, probably dreaming. He wondered if he could have an
effect on her dream. He bent over her and began whispering his
love for her into her ear.
"Good." Trudi's voice brought him back to the present.
"You've noticed the pattern, too." She grinned again. "So,
take advantage," she repeated.
"I can't do *that*. It's just . . ."
" . . . what she wants," Trudi interrupted and finished the
sentence for him.
Robert shrugged. He looked down. She *did* look so
inviting, lying there with nothing on, her nipples hard again,
centred in their areolae, pointing to the ceiling; her face
smoothed with sleep; her legs slightly parted, promising much.
"Ah, what the hell," Robert muttered and shrugged.
His fingers did a little dance across Lady-love's face and
down her neck. They touched upon her shoulders, surrounded
her breasts and made forays up the mounds to the little peaks
which awaited them on top, then scampered away once more.
Lady-love groaned her frustration, it seemed to Robert,
as he moved on to a slightly less erogenous zone. "Ah, dear
Lady, my love, I'm still looking for you. Why are you so hard
to find?"
Robert froze as her eyes half opened and she looked out,
vacantly.
"Where?" Her voice was little more than a croak.
Roberts mind locked up. He stared at her. Nothing had
prepared him for this. A jolt shook him free of his thrall
as Trudi jabbed him in the side.
"Tell her something, for crying out loud!"
"Saturday, in the Park. West Hill Park on Saturday.
I'll be there, looking for you. West Hill Park, Saturday."
It was too late. Lady-love had returned to her sleep,
to her dream. Now it was Robert who groaned his frustration.
He looked once more upon the beautiful woman below him then
turned to Trudi.
"Let's go."
His bedroom seemed smaller than before as he lay with
Trudi on the large bed.
"Too late, too late." He made it sound like a curse.
"Perhaps not, Robert, liebchen. It is difficult to know
just what she heard. However, it is definite that she knows
that you were there--at some level." Trudi sounded both happy
and sad.
Robert caught the trailing edge of her thoughts. He was
beginning to get better at it.
"Why will you be leaving?" There was sorrow in his tone.
He didn't want her to leave. She was one of the best things
which had ever happened to him and the loss . . .
Trudi smiled at him, grateful for his loyalty, his openness
in showing her the esteem in which he held her. "If you meet
her . . . when you meet her," she corrected herself, "you will
not want me any longer, at least not in the way we now are. I
have come to know you and you would feel that you were being
unfaithful." She smiled at the pain on his face. "This is true,
is it not?"
Robert sighed. "I guess so." It didn't seem fair. "What
will you do then?"
"Me? It is good of you to ask, but then it is nothing less
than I would expect from you." She thought for a moment and
Robert could only catch fleeting glimpses of those thoughts, not
enough to make any sense from them. "I think I will stay around
for a while before I leave. It has been much fun with you.
Perhaps there will be another." Trudi's eyes gleamed with
wicked delight. "Perhaps I will be able to get in someone's
dreams the way you are getting in Lady-love's. It might be
fun to try that."
Robert woke feeling both depressed and elated. He wasn't
sure how that was possible, but that was how he felt. Suddenly
his jaw went slack. Today was Saturday.
Lucid Dreamer -- part 7
His leg ached abominably. It was cold and he was tired.
His limp had grown progressively worse as he had walked back
and forth through West Hill Park looking to find that which
he no longer believed he would ever find. It was a dream,
only a dream, he told himself. Yes, it had been a dream and
he was a fool for pursuing it.
Robert laughed bitterly to himself. Yes, a fool, he
repeated, but a fool no longer. Defeat weighed heavily upon
him and added to his weariness. He needed to rest. He needed
to rest and regain his strength before beginning the long walk
home.
In the gazebo there were benches and he made his way
to it, cursing the pain in his leg. It had all been for
nothing. He began to wonder if any of it had been real.
Perhaps Trudi--yes, Trudi was real enough, though unreal--had
created the scene for him. Why, he did not know, but then
who knew what a being like Trudi would do.
No. Robert crushed that line of thought. He had put his
trust in her as she had in him and he would not withdraw it.
She would not do such a thing to him. Gods but he was tired.
He hobbled into the gazebo and slumped down onto a bench,
pulling his collar up against the cold breeze. It was growing
late in the year and winter was almost upon them. 'The dark
winter of the soul', he thought, wondering where he had heard
that line.
Robert put elbows on knees and rested his head in his
hands, palms covering eyes. A few minutes rest were all he
needed. Then he could make his way home. He heard movement
and realized that someone had been sitting in the gazebo before
he had arrived. He had been just too tired to notice. He was
too tired to even look up.
"You look like I feel," a woman's voice penetrated through
his weariness. "A long day."
"A long day," Robert agreed, not wanting this conversation.
All he wanted now were a few minutes of rest; a few minutes to
gather himself together enough to face one more defeat and put
it behind him.
"I saw you looking about. Did someone stand you up?" The
voice was persistent.
"Something like that, I guess . . . no, not really. It
was just a hope . . . a dream." Why couldn't she just go away.
"Funny thing, dreams. Maybe if your instructions had been
more explicit . . . it is a big park, you know."
Roberts eyes opened and he stared into his palms. It
couldn't be. Could it?
"You'll have to tell me how you did that. Or maybe we
were just on the same wavelength?"
Robert sat up very slowly and turned his head to see
the face of his dreams looking back at him, wary but interested.
He slumped in relief.
"I've been looking for you . . ." his voice faded as he
stared in wonder, half believing it was an apparition in front
of him.
"So I've been led to believe." She fixed her eyes on him,
held him with her gaze. "Tell me, were you really visiting me,
or is that just something I dreamed."
Robert swallowed hard. The impropriety of it suddenly hit
him and he flushed. He wanted to lie, but to lie to his
lady-love? No, he would tell the truth and face the
consequences.
"Yes, it was me. I'm sorry . . . if there had been any
other way . . . . I won't do it again," he promised.
"That's amazing. You must tell me all about it. But not
here." Her face was suddenly alive with a smile and Robert felt
his weariness dropping away from him like a discarded coat.
"I'm cold and hungry. How about we get something to eat. I'm
dying to find out how you did it." She shook her head in the
wonder of it all. "You see, I've been looking, too. Ever since
I got back."
Robert's weariness vanished. A huge smile lit up his face
quickly mirrored by her own. She stood and started towards
him. He stood, but his leg gave out and he sat back down with
a thump.
"Would you like to rest some more?" her voice was heavy
with concern.
"No. I'll be okay." Robert regained his feet as she
finally came close.
"As you wish." She moved in close to him and put her
arm around his waist. "However, you can lean on me a little.
Ah, that's fine. Now, what kind of food do you like? No, wait.
Even though I feel I know you, even though it seems we've spent
a lot of time together, we've never been introduced. I'm Pat,
short for Patricia."
"Robert. And you are my Lady, my love. I've known it
since I saw you through the window." They started off, arm
in arm, towards the parks exit.
"'My Lady, my love'," she murmured. "That has a very
familiar sound to it . . . . Careful!" He had stumbled. "So,
Robert, tell me, what happened to your leg."
"Which story do you want?" Robert asked, feeling a little
giddy, still unable to believe it had actually happened.
"The most interesting one, of course," Pat laughed.
"So," Pat dabbed at her lips with her napkin, "after you
rescued the Arabian princess and returned the crown jewels,
what happened?"
"Well, I was returning home for a good night's sleep
before being introduced to her father--apparently he was already
making plans for my harem--when I was broadsided by a drunk
driver who ran a red light. By the time I had recovered she
had fallen in love with one of her countrymen--alas." Robert
sat back and took a sip of wine. "Still, it wasn't the worst
that could have happened."
"No? Tell me."
"Well, Pat, I hate the heat. Imagine having to live in
the desert."
"A terrible fate. Pretty slave girls fanning you with
palm fronds, feeding you grapes. Terrible."
"Exactly. Glad you understand." Robert sat in silence
for a long time, simply looking at her, trying hard to believe
that his luck had finally turned. He glanced around, noting
the expectant look on the waitress's face. The restaurant had
closed and she, no doubt, wished them gone so she, too, could go
home. Robert sighed. It was not an evening he wanted to end so
soon.
"We'd better be off before they kick us out," he grinned
at Pat. His grin slowly faded. "Can I see you tomorrow?"
Pat looked at him intently, looked at him as if trying
to peer into his very soul. A decision was made. Robert
hoped that it was for him.
"Yes," she said slowly, "you can see me tomorrow, if you
wish. And, if you wish," she continued, "as soon as you wake
up." She patted her large shoulder bag. "I came prepared.
Nightdress, toothpaste, toothbrush . . . everything. If you
were who I thought you were, there was no way I was going to
let you escape."
Had Robert not been looking directly at her he would have
done a classic double take. His breath left him with a whoosh.
There it was, right in front of him. No excuses left. But the
choice was his.
"I would be honoured if you would accompany me, my Lady."
He held out his arm and she took it.
"Nice place, Rob," Pat told him. She was laying down on
the sofa, her head in his lap. "Ask you a question?"
"Anything."
"When you came in my dreams, there always seemed to be
someone else there, back in the shadows, out of sight. Know
anything 'bout that?"
"That," Robert let out his breath in a long sigh, "would
be Trudi."
"Trudi?" Pat opened her eyes and looked up at him, not
at all offended, merely curious.
"Trudi," he confirmed. "It's a long story."
"Tell me."
Robert slipped into the vibrations easily. It was almost
second nature now.
"Hello, liebchen. Congratulations. You found each other."
Trudi appeared happy, looked radiant. She was dressed in
what he had come to think of as her traveling clothes. She was,
Robert thought, the very picture of a stylish young woman of the
late '40s.
"Thanks to you." Robert got up and hugged her close. "I
told her all about you, Trudi."
"And?"
"She told me to thank you and tell you that you are always
welcome with us. Pat would like to meet you, to tell you
herself that you don't have to go away. She seems afraid that
you won't believe me." Robert laughed at the thought. They had
always been honest with each other--barring the little matter of
her not telling him that he wasn't having lucid dreams.
Trudi's face softened with a contented smile. "It is good
of her. And perhaps I will come back from time to time to see
you both. I will certainly come to say good-bye before I decide
to leave for good. But, until then, I think I should be doing a
little more experimenting. What you did with Pat . . . that was
interesting and maybe . . ." She grinned wickedly. "Anyway,
it's something to think about.
"Live well, my friend."
"And you Trudi, and you."
Robert woke and turned his head to face Pat, who had her
arm around his chest, her head on his shoulder.
"She isn't staying, is she," her voice was drugged with
sleep.
"No, my love, she isn't."
"You should do something for her."
Pat's voice faded as she slipped back into sleep and Robert
lay there a long time thinking about that.
"'Member when you had that thing for the woman at the
bus stop?" Jim nudged him.
"I remember and I wish you'd forget." Robert scowled at
him.
"Yeah, well, this one has that one beat all hollow. Good
choice, buddy." He gave Robert a mock punch on the arm.
The subject of their conversation rejoined them.
"Has it come up yet?" Pat asked.
"Not yet," Robert replied, "but soon."
"Whaddya talkin' 'bout?" Jim wanted to know as Ellen linked
her arm in his. He did not receive a reply as Pat and Robert
returned their attention to the stage.
"And here we have item 64, a picture and frame. The
proceeds of this and the next 4 items will go to the Orphans'
Fund. Do I hear ten dollars? Five?"
Someone bid five and the auctioneer brought it up to
ten. It was hard work, for it appeared that no one really
wanted the item. Then a man's voice called out.
"Fifteen!"
There was a hint of anxiety in the voice. Robert turned
to see the man. He was young, perhaps early to mid twenties.
"Twenty." Robert bid, like before, not wanting Trudi's
picture to go for too little. Pat looked at him questioningly,
then understanding came to her face. There was a long pause
and the auctioneer was about to knock down on Robert's bid.
"Thirty-five!" There was a note of desperation in the
bid.
Robert smiled and turned to leave. Jim raised his
eyebrows, but said nothing. He turned as well. After all,
it was only an auction. There would be another one next week.
"Thirty-five going once . . . twice . . . three times and
Sold!"
The foursome passed out the door and into the street.
There was the hint of snow in the air. Robert looked up at the
starry sky and smiled. As he smiled he felt the very distinct
pressure of lips on his cheek. He stopped short.
Pat looked up at his face, wonder on her own. She touched
her own cheek even as he did his. "Did you feel . . ."
Robert nodded, unable to speak. There was a lump in his
throat. He turned to Pat and held her very tightly and together
the two of them wished Trudi joy.
End of Lucid Dreamer by Delta. delta @ nym . alias . net