Alone Until Dark

Here is an excerpt from a novel I am in the processing of writing:

Chapter Three
Magic 8 Ball

That wink haunted my dreams every night for a solid week. Every time I heard the bell on my store front door, I secretly hoped it was him. I daydreamed about his lips and how strong yet how soft and pampered they looked. I would even wake up at night sweating with the sensation that his breath was on my neck and to be quite coy, I dreamt of him throbbing inside me.
I left my ex-husband two years before and it had been over a year since I made the indiscretion of picking up a horny, bar fly. I guess I just got too preoccupied with my store and my self-pity to even realize how lonely I really was. If one would call it lonely. Wanton was more like it.
It just wasn’t the physical aspect of sex . I missed the actual presence of someone. I missed revealing my secrets with someone and I missed learning the little intricacies of another human being.
I gave up on happily ever after. My rationality long took over my emotions and I came to believe that finding that fantasy of a perfect man was just that; a fantasy. All I could do is reap whatever remnants of chivalry there was left in the world. There wasn’t much so I relied on the fact that I would be much better off alone with the occasional one night stand.
I had half the mind to take the that Friday night off and throw myself at the first frat boy that bought me a drink. But I knew to get a member of the opposite sex to notice me I would have had to wear a plunging neck line and then write on my forehead in bold, black marker, “Fuck Me”. Instead, I worked the next Friday night. I was so beyond the whole throwing myself out to the wolves at least I thought.
Besides I had a large shipment from a supplier and I was the type of business owner that when I got new merchandise it had to be on the shelves like yesterday. I guess I am a little obsessive compulsive so between customers, I spent that Friday night unpacking books, candles, tarot cards and whole box of magic 8 balls.
That evening was boring to the point my nerves were on edge. So I got a little creative and I put the little boxes of eight balls on display right in front of the cash register on a little two tiered shelf. I thought hopefully they will sell because I had no idea why I ordered them in the first place.
I took one out of the box just to occupy my racing thoughts about the all of the mundane tasks that I thought I had to do but was too lethargic to actually get done. There were all kinds of questions I asked the little black ball though most had to do with the mysterious stranger the week before.
When the little ball wouldn’t give me the answer that I wanted, I would shake it until it did. I knew that it wasn’t the most sane and safe thing to do as far as obsessing over a cheap form of divination but that is how I spent a good two hours of my time.
Just when I thought I would pack up the stupid little things to ship them back, I heard the door bell chime and then a huge gust of wind knocked down the entire display. I scrambled to pick up the eight balls off of the floor when I could hear someone approaching. I looked up and in the dim, yellow light of my store, he looked like an angel sent from heaven. My stranger!
The stranger, my stranger, squatted down beside me and began picking up the little boxes to help out. “Sorry, it sure is windy out there. They say it is going to snow.” he murmured. Okay, so it wasn’t exactly the profession of love that I spent dreaming about night after night but he was there.
“Yeah, lovely. What is it that I can help you with?” I snapped. I couldn’t be nice to this stranger. It would be too embarrassing to let the cat out of the bag and have him realize what a crush I had on him.
He must have been stunned by my rudeness, “Umm…….well, you’re a healer right?” Every aspect of his surroundings were smiling on him. From the light that reflected off of his dark blue eyes to the breeze from outside dancing in his curly hair.
“Yes and an herbalist.” While I was still working in the factory I took classes on the internet. But he didn’t need to know how exactly I obtained my credentials.
“So how do I go about getting your services, ma’am?”
I took one of the business cards that was in front of my register and informed the stranger, “You can call to make an appointment. But Friday nights are slow here, I have time right now.”
“I was hoping you would have time. Let’s get started.”
“Follow me into the Healing Realm.”
“Yes, ma’am”
“Please call me Maddie.” I winked.
He starred at my name tag and read out loud as if mocking, “Madellyn Mays: Owner slash Manager.”
“Well, Madellyn sounds more professional.” I shrugged my shoulders and then he caught me starring at his lips.
“Of coarse, My name is Jack Weston. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Mays. ” he licked his lips a bit probably because they were chapped from the windy, cold weather but I hoped it was because of something else.
“The pleasure is mine.” At least I fantasized that it would be.
Jack followed me into the healing room, looked around at small room and smiled when he looked at the lavender colored, velvet chaise. “So how does t this all work?” he spun his head around and said with a grin.
“Well, just lie down and relax for now. I have preliminary questions.”
“Alright then.” He laid down facing me and curled his forehead.
“So what ails you?” I sat down on one of the velvet chairs and moved it to face him better.
“It’s depends on what you can heal?” he perked up and cupped his hands against his stomach.
“I can try to heal anything as long as you are not a skeptic.” I responded with a serious tone. This man was exquisite and I wanted nothing more then for him to take me seriously. I hoped that he wasn’t playing some sort of charade with me just for shits and giggles. I suppose though I would have sacrificed anything just to lay eyes on him even if it meant making a fool of myself.
“No you’re not a fool. There has been ones who have burned at the stake for less of a talent. No reason to hide it from me.”
I shook my head a bit. I didn’t understand Did he just hear my thoughts. I questioned to myself whether or not he was a psychic. Actually a psychic is the hardest client for another psychic (or healer in my case) to have. They were the most skeptical and could control their energy in ways that would get me off track.
I changed my mind, I would not let him make a fool out of me, “Well, if you are so intuitive, Mr. Weston. Mr. Weston is it? Then you don’t need my services do you?” I stood up above him and crossed my arms in defense.
I stared down at him for a few moments and he raised his hands, “You’re in the driver seat. I won’t question you’re techniques. Please begin.” Jack sighed.
“I have allergies that I had for some time now. Just would like to alleviate them.”
“I can help but I am going to have to check things out a bit, kinda like a doctor giving an examine. But you just have to relax and be still.”
“Can do, Ms. Mays.”
“Oh, I’m divorced. Single now please just call me Maddie.”
“Will do, Maddie.” he smiled and closed his eyes.
Jack closed his eyes and rested his hands under the back of his neck while I pressed play on my boom box and lit some white taper candles. I took about a minute to visualize the room filling up with bright white light, healing light and the light of love. I didn’t have the notice required to consecrate my work space so I concentrated on cleaning the negative energy in the room to the point my third eye felt a little strained.
When I thought it was appropriate and safe to begin, I hovered my hands above Jack’s relaxed and limp body. There were not any cold spots or hot spots of energy that jumped out at me. Actually, his entire body was as cool as a cumber well except his groin. One would expect for a man’s groin to be a little more filled with “energy” then the rest of his body anyway.
I was stumped at any rate. “Jack, continue on trying to relax a little more with each breath you take. Try to imagine the negativity seeping out of your limbs.”
“Mmhmm.”
“I am going to sit down beside you. I might have to touch you physically. Is that okay?”
“You weren’t just touching me?”
“No. I will explain that later. I am going to rub your hands okay?”
“Sure.” his eyes were still closed but he smirked a little. Then the thought occurred to me that to a man this might be a little erotica.
I placed one of his hands into one of my palms and began rubbing his hand with the other. The hands hold a lot of energy and tension from being used constantly throughout the day. They are kind of like a compass that could lead to certain negative energies. His hand though felt cold like the energy I felt before I touched him.
For some unknown reason, probability because of my natural intuitive abilities, I visualized that the energy in his hand was like a tunnel and I was walking through the tunnel. I tried to investigate every aspect of his being. Every neon sparkling atom inside him. But I all I could see was dark red flutters of a fog like material.
There was something terribly wrong with this poor man. He had more then allergies. All I could do was imagine that I was in this tunnel (Jack). Then as the crimson fog would breeze by me I would grab it in my hands and turn the mysterious energy into white energy. There was so much of the crimson colored fog that it seemed to sneak up on me to the point there was nothing in the tunnel except it and me.
I had to fight it. Most people though where purple, orange, and blue energy spiraling together in harmony like flowers in the wind so it was not difficult to spot the cancer of black negativity energy.
Not this man. He was nothing like that. Everything was like a scarlet dream inside of his being. All I could do was think of love, then pull every ooze of love out of mother earth and zap the fog. But it seemed as though the more I poured love into it the more it would appear all around like it was hungry for me. Something was dreadfully off.
Jack began to squeeze my hand and I could hear him moan. I was afraid that maybe he was in pain. I open my eyes to only find myself completely bewildered. Everyone thought I was crazy but looking at Jack I started to believe it so quick the recollection felt like I was like being hit by a Mack truck.
My stranger was radiating blackness around him and then was glowing off-white almost gray from his face and crown. It looked like something that Hollywood special effects teams would be envious of. He looked absolutely beautiful yet frightening all the same.
Jack pulled my hand forward toward him so forcefully that we were almost chest to chest. Then I noticed something that deep down inside I did not want to reconcile. His irises began to glow red and as he opened his mouth to speak I discovered his wolf like fangs.
“Maddie, be strong.” He whispered with some sort of authority.
I couldn’t. The poem by William Blake, his teeth, the crimson fog………I was going to lose it. Then I thought about something worse. Was he going to kill me? I could feel the wind being knocked out of me all the while my head was spinning and spinning out of control. I could do nothing but submit to my hysteria and the blackness of unconsciousness.