Trifecta (70 page)

"You're lying,"  Mark said positively and smiled.

"Am not." 

Mark knew her too well for her to get away with this, but
she persisted for the fun of it and to keep herself awake.  "You don't have
to worry about me.  I probably won't even sleep tonight, I had such a long rest
last night.  You know, this reminds me of the toothpaste commercial.  Eve was so
new then,"  Sabrina smiled at the memory.  "I had to run up and down the
beach for hours."

"You're doing it again, Sabrina,"  Mark complained.

"What?"

"I was just getting to the plan, and you knew it,
and got scared and changed the subject."

"What are you talking about? I just said that the
beach reminded me of the commercial.  And Eve."

"We were talking about our respective nights, last
night after I left your place.  I said I didn't want it to happen again.  So I have
this plan."

"A plan?" 

"Yes.  You promise never to tell me to leave again."

"That's it? That's the plan?"  Sabrina looked
at him angrily.

"Part of it."  He was smiling at her.

Sabrina pushed his arm off of her shoulder and strode ahead.
 Outrunning him was impossible, but she decided to make him endure some discomfort
in his hard leather shoes.  What an unmitigated ass.  Her lethargy was entirely
forgotten.

Mark was walking quickly behind her while she jogged up
the beach.  "Slow down, Sabrina.  I can't run in these shoes.  And the goons
up there might shoot me." 

Sabrina slowed down and waited for Mark to catch up.  "Goons?
What are you talking about?"

"The guys on the bluff up there, dressed in business
suits like me.  They're smarter though, not getting in the sand.  They've been keeping
pace with us.  They'll think I'm trying to harm you if you run away.  They probably
have Uzis."

Sabrina looked up where Mark had indicated and saw two
large dark shapes that were indeed keeping pace with them. 

She was still angry.  She was supposed to never tell Mark
to go away again? That was a plan? She looked around but there was nowhere to go,
but she was not staying here with Mark.  No way.  She shrugged out of her jacket.

"What are you doing?"  Mark asked.

Sabrina kicked off her shoes.

She turned and walked directly into the ocean.  It was
very cold but she was so upset she didn't even feel it.  She knew the sadness would
hit later and wanted to put it off, even if it meant freezing in the ocean.

Sabrina walked quickly through the water as it got deeper
and deeper, until it was up to her waist and she was buffeted by waves that nearly
reached her shoulders.  Then she took a deep breath, shuddering in anticipation,
and plunged under the next wave that rolled toward her.  She loved to swim, but
the water was very cold and choppy.

Sabrina could hear Mark yelling at her but she didn't care. 
It took about five minutes for Sabrina to get really teeth chatteringly cold.  She
decided she better get out.  She really might get sick.  She did a slow breast stroke
in to shore, finally felt the sand under her feet, and stood up.  She was still
up to her thighs in cold salty water.  Her jeans stuck to her legs like cold lead
and her feet felt dead.  Still, she didn't want to get out and be with Mark and
his stupid, humiliating plan.

"Come out, Sabrina."  He stood just at the waters
edge.

"No way."

"You didn't hear the whole plan."

"Don't want to,"  Sabrina shouted.  She could
hardly hear him over the crashing waves.  The sea gulls were making a tremendous
amount of noise, doing their end of the daylight shrieking.

"Yes you do.  First part.  You never tell me to leave
again.  And to make it impossible for you to ask me to leave, I'll make sure you
have a baby.  Soon."

"That would take cooperation,"  Sabrina shouted. 
"You sure are presumptuous."

"It would be cruel and unusual punishment to say bye-bye
to Daddy."

"Are you discussing legal...or what?"  Sabrina
shouted and then shut her mouth, wondering where the nerve to ask that question
had come from.

"Legal,"  Mark yelled back.

"I don't believe it,"  Sabrina muttered to herself. 
It was hard to switch gears in her head because she was almost numb with cold. 
It seemed like Mark said he wanted to marry her and have a baby.  She wondered if
Eve had been right.

"Come on.  You're going to get pneumonia."

"I still don't believe you.  If you really mean it,
come in and get me."  She tried to look irritated, but had trouble with her
mouth, which kept quirking into a smile.

Mark started taking off his shoes.

"No fair taking off the shoes.  If you take off your
shoes I won't believe you."

Mark had a shoe in each hand and he looked at them.  He
remembered how Sabrina had lost two pairs at Ferd's laboratory when Eve had thrown
them out the window.  They would be ruined by the salt water anyway.  He took his
right shoe and threw it as far as he could into the ocean, muttering to himself,
'There's the commitment.' He threw the other one out to sea and said, 'There's the
promise.'

"I didn't hear you,"  Sabrina said, jumping up
and down to keep warm.  The gulls were screaming and the waves crashing.

 Mark started wading into the ocean.  "I can't believe
this."

"I didn't say yes, yet,"  Sabrina said, still
trying to act cross.

"Getting in the water like that.  Crazy."  Mark
was shaking his head.  "So, what do you say?"

"You want to marry a lunatic?"

"Sure.  But then I'm a lunatic too."  Mark started
pulling Sabrina out.  "And you better believe it's terminal.  I'll never get
over it.  You see, it all began when I was minding my own business.  Happy and serene. 
Walking down Melrose Avenue.  Then I just happened to look into a window and saw
the most beautiful creature.  I couldn't just walk by.  That's where the lunacy
began."

Mark took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. 
He put his arm around her too, to try to keep her warm.  She was shivering and her
lips were almost blue with cold.  She was smiling and her face was so wet he couldn't
tell if she had tears in her rapidly blinking eyes or not.  Maybe it was salt water.

"Did Eve say something to you?"  Sabrina asked.

"Let me go on with the story of my strangeness.  See,
madness had begun.  I could not control myself.  I had to see the beautiful woman
up close.  And closer was even better."

Mark glanced at Sabrina and saw her laughing.

"That's where the lunacy began.  I went into her shop
and started buying things.  Stupid enough, right? I know nothing about women's fashions,
but I could not stay away.  Even when she kept rejecting my pleas to go out with
her.  Talk about dumb.  I bought all the clothes and all the accessories she recommended. 
Already, I would do anything she wanted.  I was way beyond help by then.  And then,
one day, I gave all the stuff back to her...."

Sabrina listened and smiled as Mark continued his story
of terminal madness.  And she believed him.  Without the fear that had always kept
her from feeling, she looked at him in an entirely new way. 

Sabrina understood that this was really the gift; the legacy
Eve had left for her.  She now was free to feel love as strong, bright and new as
one of Eve's 'Sabrina Emotions.' She trusted Mark.  She already loved their baby
and their new life together. 

Mark and Sabrina turned and followed their footprints back
up the beach.

––––––––

T
HE END

M
ichelle was brutally attacked in her locked
hotel room.  The police didn't believe her and thought she had invited a man to
her room for a little sexual encounter, which went dangerously out of control. 
She decides an affair with the wickedly handsome man who moved into her
building might cure her of the panic attacks.  How can she know she picked the
wrong man.  A man known as The Necromancer.

I
t was just past twilight, almost time for the
Crystal Prophesies.  Omar leaned his elbows on the penthouse balcony, enjoying the
moment.  This was a magical time of day and he was a magician.  He preferred calling
himself a Necromancer to the common titles:  warlock, conjuror, magus, seer or wizard. 
There were subtle variations, but he fancied 'romancer' in his title.  Necromancer. 
It described him.  He romanced his way into hearts and minds.  With the help of
a little magic.

As he gazed at the panorama spread out below, the Pacific
slowly changed from light blue to a misty topaz.  Lush clouds floated on the horizon,
and stars began to glow.  To his left was the tinsel-tourist Waikiki, and to his
right the city of Honolulu was lighting up.  Below him, in this very building, he
could sense the presence of a remarkable woman.

He turned, gazing through plate glass windows into his
new penthouse.  Ginger and Samson were inside.  Ginger noticed his look and, with
a flourish, she uncovered an enormous crystal ball from its leather shroud.  She
winked at him.  Ginger was a disciple, a beautiful tall woman, with long curly red
hair.  She wore a flowing blue gown for the ceremony.

It was a tradition for the three of them to gaze into the
crystal ball to divine their future when they expanded to a new location.  They
had arrived in Oahu a week ago.  Tonight was perfect, the time of the full moon.

Omar went inside and sat down in front of the crystal. 
The sphere was almost two feet in diameter and sparkled on a base of black onyx. 
The three were seated in the main living room, beneath a skylight.  White rafters
crossed the cathedral ceiling.  The room was dark except for a cold silvery glow
from the candles Ginger had placed around the room.

Omar passed his hands over the crystal ball several times
for theatrical effect, principally for Samson, who was watching with curious eyes. 
Omar's acolyte, Samson was a gigantic man who would never age mentally.  He did
remember this ritual.  His mouth was open in anticipation.

Omar frowned and leaned closer, gazing into the depths
of the crystal.  Indeed, the omens were not auspicious.  Red forms floated amorphously
inside, constantly changing shape.  This denoted the substance that controlled all
magical rites.  Blood was a fluid like the tide; it flowed like the ocean, was coaxed
by the moon to move subtly in bodies, causing emotional changes called lunacy. 
Sometimes it spilled.

The black he observed, swirling around the red forms like
a night wind, could be taken as a symbol of his own influence.  It was the bright
white light clashing there which forced Omar's dark eyebrows to slide together. 
White, an opposing force, seemed capable of exerting great influence in these Hawaiian
islands.  Omar couldn't tell if it indicated an old curse peculiar to these islands,
with their ancient polytheist beliefs, or if it referred to a threatening individual.

The white was glowing, taking over.  There was busy movement
inside the crystal.  It might have been a reflection from the stark white walls,
but Omar was not taking chances. 

"Who will sacrifice?" he asked, frowning at Ginger
and Samson in turn.  He took a dagger from the leather sheath that Ginger had placed
beside the crystal ball.

The colossal young man cowered away.

Omar shook his head.  Samson let out a tiny moan, but Omar
swiftly reached across the crystal and pointed the tip of the dagger at Ginger.

"I need heart blood," Omar said.

Ginger closed her eyes and nodded.  He made a small slashing
cut above her left breast, above her heart.  The cut was superficial, but blood
immediately started flowing.

Ginger leaned forward and red dripped on the round crystal
ball, and slowly, like wine with good legs, inched down its sides.

Omar recited incantations and waved his long expressive
hands.  Both Ginger and Samson saw silver sparks extend from his fingertips and
enter into the crystal. Ginger thought the effect might have been starlight drifting
down from the skylight above.  Samson was sure it was magic.

Omar peered into the depths of the crystal and was satisfied. 
The white light was winking out.  The sacrifice had been potent. 

His mind again sought the lovely feminine presence he had
felt below him in this building.  When he found it he smiled.  His final aspiration
would be fulfilled.  The Crystal Prophesy said so.

S
he was alone in her apartment, so she almost discounted
the movement in her peripheral vision.  An anomaly of tired eyes.  A tiny blip,
an eye mote.  It had been a long day.  But her gaze slid sideways, away from the
book she was reading. 

Michelle was suddenly afraid she was going through delirium
tremens again when she actually focused on the hideous thing moving on the wall. 
But her eyes were open.  The terrifying hallucinations that accompanied alcohol
withdrawal had only happened when she closed her eyes to sleep. 

This wasn't an illusion, but she blinked a few times to
make sure.  It was a large beast, probably a lizard because it was long and thick. 
It had a tail.  Lizards were ordinary in Hawaii.

On closer inspection she noted the thing was coal black. 
It had numerous ugly, hairy legs sticking out of its sides, which were moving it
rapidly and in a disturbingly awkward manner sideways down the wall toward her bed. 
Toward her.  The tail swished in opposition to myriad legs.

Michelle threw off the covers, and her book landed somewhere
on the opposite side of the bed, as she made a panicked rush to the kitchen for
insect spray.

She ran back to the bedroom doorway, holding the can in
front of her for protection, skidded to a stop, and peeked around the corner into
the bedroom.  There it was.  Creepy, ugly thing.  Still climbing.  The head was
detached from the body on a stick-like neck and she shuddered.

Her heart was racing and she held her breath as she slowly 
tiptoed toward the wall where it was adhered on sticky toes.  Finally, she raised
the can and blasted it. 

The black monster stopped with a jerk.  The head swivelled
toward her.  It hissed, a definite zzzt sound.  Then it seemed to hunch, and started
a panicked scuttle across the wall, hopped around the corner and ran behind her
bookcase.  She followed it all the way, using the can like a machine gun.  The bug
fell on the floor and contorted a few times.  She peered at it from between the
book shelves, suddenly motionless.

She sat on the bed panting, glad it was out of sight for
a minute.  Never had she wanted a drink so badly.

The thing had actually made a sound.  A threatening low
buzzy sound.  She would swear it looked directly at her with those creepy eyes. 
It was unbelievable. 

When she finally got her heart and breathing calmed down
she laughed shakily.  Delirium tremens my ass.  That thing was an arachnophobic's
nightmare.  She couldn't remember ever having seen such a large insect.  Even in
Hawaii, where giant bugs thrived in the tropical weather.  Now she had to see the
body again.  Make sure it was really, permanently, dead. 

She got a flashlight and beamed it on the floor behind
the books.  She searched tentatively at first and then obsessively, moving books
and then rolling the whole bookcase away from the wall, but it was gone. 

Picking up her cell from the bedside table, Michelle tapped
the automatic dial.

It rang four times and Michelle almost hung up, then: 
"Shelly?"

"Did I wake you?"

"Ah, no, no."

She definitely sounded sleepy, Michelle thought.  Damn. 
"Something weird just happened.  But if you're asleep..."

"What?"

"Do bugs make noises?"

"What!"

"I think I just killed this enormous insect.  But
before that, he hissed at me.  And I swear, he looked me right in the eyes.  Like
he had some kind of strange intelligence."

"Have you been..."

"No, no.  Not for more than a year."

"Well, I know you haven't.  Sorry.  It's just that...I
mean the bug's dead?  If not, I'll get rid of it for you."

"That's the odd thing.  I saw it dead on the floor. 
And now it's disappeared.  It was so big, I just can't figure out how that happened."

"How big." 

"About four inches, including the tail."

Michelle heard Heather laughing.  "It had a tail?"

Through the phone there was whispering.  Male, sleepy whispering. 
Damn.  Heather had someone over.  Maybe she had interrupted something.

"Listen," Michelle said, "We'll talk in
the morning.  Go back to sleep."

"I can come over," Heather insisted.  She lived
right down the hallway in the same condominium.  "I just finished peeing on
a stick.  So I'm awake."

"How'd it go?"

"Another month and another definite No."

"Like clockwork, every month."

"Well, it's a definite relief, if you know what I
mean."

"Sometimes I wish I did.  But you do this every month. 
And you use birth control."

"I don't trust birth control."

"Obsessive compulsive."

"Yeah, but I'm not scared of bugs."

"This was one hell of a bug.  I'll see you in the
morning."

Michelle clicked off.

She retrieved her book and took a quilt and pillow into
the living room to lie down on the couch.  No way would she sleep in the bedroom
with the black spider, or whatever it had been.  She tried to recall types of exotic
insects with tails and could only come up with scorpions.  But they were brown. 
A horrible thought took hold; insects with tails usually had stingers.  Like bees
and wasps.  Maybe it was a new species of deadly poisonous insect.  Or a type of
lethal amphibian.

She found herself getting angry that she could never drink
anything alcoholic again.  It didn't seem fair that she could never again have the
common calming effect of the colorless liquid.  Vodka had been her 'drug of choice.' 
But she reminded herself that she couldn't drink in a common way.  No, she had to
swig the stuff till she was blasted comatose. 

One would never be enough for her.  When it came to the
juice she didn't care about anything except the lovely feeling that sent her to
blessed oblivion.  Where she wished she were now.

One small sip and she could forget the ghastly bug and
relax and go to sleep.  Oh well, honestly, to forget that thing would take a whole
bottle. 

Michelle knew she was irrationally phobic and foolish to
be repulsed by tiny and mostly innocuous insects, but the creepy, awkward, jerky
way they moved and their alien multi-lensed eyes sent shivers down her spine.  It
was silly.  She was almost six feet tall and she shouldn't be scared of bugs.  But
it was a convenient reason to drink.  Scared me to death.  Couldn't help it.  Had
to calm down somehow.

Michelle tried to think of the thing as pathetic.  The
way it had scuttled away from her.  It was probably more scared than she was.  After
all, she had killed it.  Hadn't she?  Or was it searching for her right now, to
bite or sting?  Creeping sneakily under the closed bedroom door, slithering down
the hallway into the living room to get her.  Growing more and more angry that she
had almost asphyxiated it.  A vengeful bug with murderous intent.

She giggled at her own morbid imagination.  It was alive
and ticking.  Hopefully, the bug was dead.

She nestled her shoulders against the back of the couch
and reached back, pulling off the tie that held her hair back.  She needed its warmth
around her neck tonight.

As she was drifting to sleep the blackness of the beast
brought memories of the most handsome man she had ever seen.  His eyes had been
black.

There he was again.  Michelle noticed him immediately
the next morning as she walked out the front door of her condominium.  It was man
she had been thinking about as she fell asleep.

Michelle motioned to the valet stationed in front of her
condominium that she needed her car.  She glanced at the man again as she waited. 
He was across the street, standing in the light rain beside a small black car. 
She felt her heart do a little flop, then a lurch, like there was a fast extra beat. 
Even with the rain plastering his wavy black hair and dripping down his face, he
was extraordinary.  She tried to glance at him quickly, sideways, so he wouldn't
notice, and wondered what it would be like to be so gorgeous and a male.  He must
be used to being watched.  Still, it would be disconcerting.

Beautiful is not a word commonly associated with men, but
he had a vivid artistic face.  One could imagine him a ballet dancer, a painter,
or maybe a poet or musician with the wide forehead, thin nose and high cheekbones. 
His eyes were long and slanted, almost Oriental in his Occidental face, which made
it unforgettable.  The eyes were so large and dark they appeared luminous, and a
little frightening. 

The man turned away from his car and his eyes seemed to
reach right through her, as if he were looking at her and beyond at the same time. 
She felt like moving forward, almost as if she were hypnotized.  It was the rain
making her shiver, she told herself harshly, not the sultry black eyes, which she
tore her own away from.  The notion was a little absurd that his attraction was
pulling her toward him, against her own volition and even her own consciousness. 
She noticed she had moved forward a few minuscule steps.

Even more absurd was the fact that she thought he had been
following her yesterday.  She had been walking downtown, on her way to lunch, when
she spotted him ahead of her, looking in the window of a clothing store.  The man
had such presence she stopped dead.  There was a strange feeling that she knew him. 
Before she could search her memory, he was looking directly at her.

She had turned abruptly away, feeling foolish, afraid he
had noticed her staring, but there was still that odd feeling that she remembered
him.  It was irrational, she told herself, because he really was unforgettable. 

Later that same day she had seen him again, driving his
car, a Porsche, right next to her in downtown Honolulu.  Then later that evening
he had suddenly been beside her as she went into the front door of her own condominium. 

That's what made her think he was following her.  He was
politely holding the heavy glass door and smiling.  The ironical smile made her
believe he had noticed her earlier that day on the street, gawking like a lovesick
adolescent.

When she had glanced up into his eyes, she saw
absolutely no color, only blackness.  Or maybe his eyes were comprised entirely
of pupils.  She had felt the hairs on her arms rise suddenly.  It was like
looking into an empty abyss, or the night sky without stars.  She thought she
might sink into those eyes and cease to exist, as if he were some strange
hypnotist who could compel her into unknown realms.  It was a little terrifying
and quite thrilling.

She put it down to the fact that she hadn't had a relationship
in years.  She had smiled briefly at the attractive face looking down at her and
murmured thanks for his help with the door.  She thought fleetingly that maybe he
was part Japanese or Chinese with those long slanted eyes, there were lots of racial
mixes in Hawaii, but he was so tall one would not think so.

The security guard poised in front of the building didn't
stop him, so she had to believe that the gorgeous dark man was living in the same
building.

And here he was again this morning.  Looking at something
beyond her.

The valet beeped to get her attention.  Michelle
felt like she was coming out of a trance as she tipped the valet and got in her
car.  She decided to forget the dark man.  He must be hopelessly obnoxious and haughtily
arrogant because he had inherited the DNA that makes male gorgeousness.  He was
probably self obsessive, narcissistic and a snooty jerk to boot.  Probably held
women in contempt when they fell all over him, slavering for attention.

Or possibly he was gay.  Which would explain why he had
seemed to look through her rather than at her.  Absolute zero interest in the opposite
gender.  It made sense.  Every man she had ever known who was totally gorgeous had
also been gay.

She passed several of her office buildings on the way to
work.  There was a euphoric, proprietary feeling of pure luck that she had happened
upon such a splendid job, Property Manager for Heroshi Corporation.

The feeling of happy serendipity about her wonderful position
dissolved when she got to the office.

Susan, the office receptionist, handed her a bundle of
yellow messages torn from her pad and said, "telephone book."  Their code
for lots of complaints.  She winked in sympathy.

"Good grief," Michelle muttered as she took them
and started sorting through the thick pile.

"Crying wolf?" Susan asked.

"No.  These actually look pretty serious.  Am I late
or something?"

Susan shook her head.  "They all came in in the last
fifteen minutes."

"Can you take my calls for a few minutes.  I have
to get started on these..." Michelle said, frowning down at the pile of messages.

"Shall I tell them you're in a meeting?"

Michelle shook her head and smiled.  "No.  They'll
just think I'm trying to avoid them.  Tell them I'm on the phone and I'll get back
as fast as I can."

Michelle hurried to her office and began making calls.

The air-conditioning had mysteriously quit in the Lanai
office building (an outrage in a tropical climate where all buildings were aggressively
cooled to almost freezing) and she had ten furious messages from the tenants about
their suffocating environment.  Michelle sat at her desk and cursed the inanimate
mechanical systems that went down for no apparent reason.

She started organizing the messages for each of the buildings
she managed, calling repair crews and maintenance men before she even started returning
messages from irate tenants.  A whole sewer system had backed up.  A palm tree fell,
breaking several windows in another building.  That was odd because although their
root systems were not deep, there hadn't been any abnormal wind phenomena, and they
seldom fell over.  Sprinkler systems seemed to be off timer in another building
and had flooded a garage.  And the lights in another building were blinking, indicating
a malfunctioning electrical system.