A Fair Distance:Running on Empty. Chapter Ten
I woke up in my bunk, my eyes gritty feeling and this stupid fever heating my skin. I wondered what time it was since I hadn't meant to fall asleep; I had just rested my eyes for a minute.
My phone call! Dave had told me court would be in the morning, so the judge could finally dismiss the charges. I'd wanted to call the boss at the trucking company I was headed to and try and explain why I wasn't there. There was a clock on the wall down the hallway; I went over to the bars and wiggled around so I could see it.
Shit!
It was after eight o'clock. It was too late to call today, but I'd try early in the morning and see if I could get a second chance. Maybe Dave would vouch for me, tell him I wasn't in any trouble here. Oh man, I probably should have called the guy days ago, but I'd been casting prayers out to the universe that I'd get out of here in time to get to North Carolina today. I'd hoped to avoid telling my prospective boss I was in jail.
There was a tray on the other bottom bunk; I picked through it, drank the water and juice and ate the canned fruit salad. The rest of it I skipped. Jim had been right about my weight loss; I was a lot skinnier than I had been, but a lot of the time, like now, I just didn't feel very hungry. Money was tight, too, so I tried not to spend extra on food.
After using the toilet in the corner of the cell (I wondered each time I peed if I was being watched), I picked my journal off the floor and located my missing pen in the blanket. My notes were gone, so Jim must have them.
During the time I was being interrogated this morning, I'd deliberately not thought about what had happened earlier in the spirit world. It was just too freaky and I had had to concentrate on Jim's questions. But now I wanted to document what had taken place in Blue Jungle Land. I'd have to use some code words, though, so that only I could understand it; if somebody else read it, I'd be a candidate for the funny farm.
I thought back to after my interrogation, when Dave had left me in the interview room. I'd been afraid that Jim and I were just plain fucked. In fact, when I'd been 'escorted' into that room with Jim, he hadn't been all there mentally. That had become kind of evident when he had, as Dave put it, started "feelin' me up." My guess was that it was related to a zone, maybe because I was physically close to him for the first time in a year. Anyway, I couldn't blame him for this zone clone and it wouldn't be fair for him to get in trouble about it. He could lose his badge and that would just devastate him. "Jim=Cop; Cop=Jim." Me, I'm a lot more flexible job-skills-wise. Jim, he'd gone from school to the army to being a cop. Yeah, he'd had teenage jobs but nothing like my long list of blue- and white-collar occupations. It would be ten times the shock to him to be like I was now, scrambling around for any steady job, let alone one you enjoyed doing.
So I'd been kind of desperate with wanting a way out for Jim, and I'd thought - hey! What if my bite from Jim really had been stigmata? Nobody knows why or where stigmata come from; different theories suggest psychological or spiritual origins. Spiritual… I'd had a visitor's pass to the spirit world lately. Usually I just slipped into Blue Jungle Land from dreaming, but maybe if I tried to meditate and ask for help the powers there could aid me.
I'd sat down against the wall of the interrogation room, with my shackled ankles together and my knees pulled up to my chest, my arms loosely around my shins. Not a recommended position for meditation, but shackles - man, they really limit your posture.
I had deepened my breathing, and slipped into the familiar state of calmness. I'd imagined a pathway I was slowly walking down, and as I had traveled further along, the vegetation had become thicker and more tropical, the air warmer, and the colors of the foliage and air had shifted from green to greenish-blue to blueish-green, and then I was there - in Blue Jungle Land.
When I had been here before, I had either been spying on Jim's animal spirit or running and hiding from the panther or the sentinel form of Jim's animal spirit. I had been the wolf or naked.
This time, I wasn't already linked to my animal spirit, so I asked out loud for help from my spirit guide. I waited, and the wolf loped up next to me. Where he had come from I didn't see, but he jumped up on me and licked my face. As the wolf was giving my face a tongue bath, he started to become kind of see-through-ish, and then it was like he melted into me. I looked down at myself and I was naked, but I could also feel the cold, hard floor under my butt, and was aware of my back against the wall of the room where I was waiting for Jim and Dave to come back to question me some more.
I decided to look for the panther, and instead of skulking along I trotted, willing the big cat to find me. I called out, "Here kitty, kitty, kitty," taking a perverse delight in probably annoying Jim's animal spirit. After the panther had licked my wolf-self instead of tearing out my throat, when Jim had nuzzled and given me a love bite, I wasn't concerned any more that the spirit guide would hurt me.
When I rounded a curve in the path, the panther, growling loudly, had jumped down from a rocky perch in front of me. As he moved forward, almost close enough to touch me, his form shifted into Jim's jungle sentinel image.
"Shaman," the spirit form of my sentinel addressed me.
"Sentinel," I returned.
"You ask for aid from the spirit world. What need troubles you, Shaman?"
"I want to help Jim out of a jam. The police think he hurt me because of a love bite he gave me. I misled them by insinuating that maybe the love bite appeared without Jim's help. They don't believe me so in order for my story to be accepted I need to have a stigmata mark on my skin, in a place where I couldn't have made it myself. I need a bite mark on… the back of my shoulder, like near my neck. Can you make that happen, Sentinel?"
"Shaman, this can be done but it will cause you pain."
"That doesn't matter; Jim needs my help. Does he know what's going on in here, that we've been sort of in contact all the time we've been apart?"
"Enqueri has built a wall around himself; he denies the spirit world, but he is drawn to you. He desires you as his guide and his mate; this causes war within himself because he feels you betrayed him. He has much anger, anger that has grown from his fears. He needs the wolf's steadfastness; he needs the wolf to guide his gifts. In his anger, he has rejected these gifts. Enqueri must remove his wall to the spirit world and acknowledge the tie between Shaman and Sentinel that binds you together in the spirit realm. A Sentinel will be a Sentinel if he so chooses to be one. He needs assistance. Little Shaman, will you commit to returning to Enqueri as mate and guide?"
I was silent for a time. I thought about what he told me and when I was ready to answer him I chose my words carefully.
"Sentinel, Enqueri has had a flawed guide to aid him; he deserves a mate and guide worthy of him. When the panther licked the wolf's throat, I became aware of the abandonment Enqueri felt upon my leaving him. He does not forgive easily and he has never considered claiming me as his mate to his friends and family. I am afraid he will never accept or trust me as he should accept and trust his guide. I will help him now, but then we must part again. Perhaps we can part as
not-enemies but I fear our closeness has changed and cannot return to what it was."
"Enqueri is stubborn, Little Shaman, but you are well matched with him… I will give you the help you have requested for your mate."
I began to correct him about his designating Jim as my mate, but the sentinel spirit glared me quiet without me finishing a word.
The sentinel spirit, Jim's image, reached out and stroked my face several times. Then he took my arm and turned me around, pulling me snug against his front; my naked skin becoming sensitized from the texture of his pants and of his bare chest. And the observer in me thought that was interesting, that I could feel such sensations here in the spirit world as well as I could sense the hard, chilly floor of the Sweetwater Police Station. The rest of me wanted to whimper… it had been so long since Jim had touched me with kindness.
I felt his warm breath against my neck and with one arm holding me tight against him, his other hand began fondling my dick.
"What are you -"
But Jim's sentinel spirit didn't let me finish my question before removing his hand from my dick and placing his palm over my mouth.
"Do not speak, Little Shaman. The bite you ask for will be given but not till your body sings of pleasure, to mask the pain. Let the sentinel take care of his guide.
"Enqueri has long desired this from you, that you allow him to comfort you when you are weary, and give your burdens to him to carry while you rest till strength returns to your body and spirit.
"Enqueri knows you are strong; your determination and courage shine from you, Little Shaman. You are teacher; you are protector; and you are the bridge to many people. Your spirit is giving and will weave its own path through pain, and change to emerge enriched.
"Enqueri loves all this about you; it is why he is drawn to you as guide and mate. He wishes to be keeper of your strength, to hold it safely while you regain your power when it ebbs. You give your life force away to those who are in need; it is your gift to the world. But it drains you, Little Shaman. Enqueri wants to help you renew yourself, but you reject his care. This twists inside him and knots his spirit.
"Remember my words, Little Shaman."
Jim's spirit-self then moved his hand and resumed stroking my dick, slowly and tenderly till I was writhing against him. He held me strongly; I couldn't have gotten away from him or stopped him even if I had wanted to. And I didn't. Want to, that is. Not being able to move, feeling his clothes against my naked skin, feeling his tongue licking my neck and his teeth scraping against my neck and shoulder just made me shudder with arousal.
I began to build to orgasm, my hips thrusting instinctively. The sentinel didn't allow this though; he moved his leg to pin one of mine and dropped his arm lower to continue to restrain me. I become frantic to be in motion and was making fuck-stupid noises when he started moving against my ass, which pushed me over the top. And as I fell, pleasure pulsing through my penis and semen erupting over Jim's spirit-self's hand; he bit hard on the muscle that joined the back of my neck and shoulder. It hurt, it really hurt, but I was distracted by the waves of pleasure still coursing through me; it all blended into a hurting-bliss sensation.
As the post-orgasm lethargy took over my body, I was glad the sentinel spirit was still holding me up. I relaxed against him and let him sway me back and forth. He kissed the top of my head and we just stayed that way, him rocking me and me melting against his hard body. I could feel blood dripping down my upper back but I didn't care.
Slowly, I became aware more of my body sitting on the floor back in the real world. Blue Jungle Land began to dissolve around me, the sentinel's body holding mine becoming less substantial, until finally I couldn't feel or see anything of the spirit plane.
I'd become aware of my name being called and had opened my eyes to see Dave kneeling beside me with Jim standing next to him. They were looking at my neck. I'd reached behind me and felt the bite mark I had been given in the spirit world. I'd been elated that it had worked. I'd made some remark to Dave about stigmata when I'd realized that I'd had an orgasm in the real world too, and my thin cotton jail scrubs were good and wet in the crotch. Jesus, this was embarrassing; the guys would be able to see the stain if I stood up, and I didn't want them to know what I had done. Although Jim had figured it out, judging by the flaring of his nostrils and the look he'd thrown at me. That was when I remembered the water trick.
'Remember my words' …I sat on my bunk, pen in hand, thinking about what Jim's spirit-self had told me about Jim and if it really changed anything between us.
So a part of Jim had wanted me to share with him when I was hurting, or tired; wanted me to let him pet me, soothe me. Wanted to do more than the pats and little things he'd always done for me, like changing my car's oil or buying me lunch. We would roll together after sex, and sleep tangled up with each other… Oh, be brave, Blair, call it what it was: cuddling. Okay, Jim liked to cuddle me after making love and I let him. I liked it too, but I never told him that. I kind of acted like it was something I only indulged in because he wanted to do it.
I guess I'd kind of diverted Jim a lot of the times when he'd offered me comfort. Pretty much from the beginning of when I'd known him, I'd done that. I thought about the day my Corvair had been shot up and I'd been sitting on a car hood, bummed about the cost of fixing it and a little shaky still from the feeling of being in a shoot-out. Jim had come over and had been gentle with me, touching me on the thighs and leaning over me while he explained it was okay to admit to feeling shook up. I could have leaned into him and let him give me a hug but I hadn't wanted to look like a wimp so I had done my woo-hoo dance instead, emphasizing how pumped up I felt from the excitement. And that wasn't untrue, exactly, but I'd shut him off from my more scared and dismayed feelings. And you know, a hug would have felt nice but I'd denied myself his sympathy. He'd wanted to take me home but I'd insisted he take me to Rainier instead, running away from his gesture of support.
After a while, he probably had thought it was a waste of time to try the comfort routine, but he still found ways to sneak caring for me into his verbal and non-verbal communication. I thought about his gestures and little routines for a while, looking them over from my new perspective.
Getting my coat for me, deciding that he wanted to eat out on his 'turn to cook' days and insisting it was fair for him to pay for my dinner, agreeing to speak to my classes about living with the Chopec, not giving me away to Sam when she was out for my head; man, I could come up with tons of examples of Jim being protective or helping me out. He had probably loved it when I had called him my blessed protector after Lash's fun time with me.
Lash… now that was the exception to the rule. Jim had hugged me and carried me out of that hell-hole of a warehouse, had kept his arm around me when I was half out of it with the drug I'd had forced into me. I wasn't stopping him then; I'd been scared and afterwards I was shaky, and he'd given me comfort and solace. A day or two later I'd felt embarrassed that I'd been clingy and I'd worked hard at showing him I was independent for the next few days.
Independence was important to me. I liked being in control of my life and I often had made choices that allowed me to do things when and where I wanted to, without having to be under somebody else's thumb. Well, so did a lot of people, but I seemed to take it too far; when I started getting close to somebody, I would tell myself we had no future because I couldn't lose my independence. Or I would pick people that I knew had higher priorities than sticking with me. That way there was a ready made out from commitments. And when I still had gotten in too deep, like with Maya and now Jim, it would be painful when we parted. Shit - with Jim it had felt like an amputation.
I could be a good team player on a professional level but I wouldn't compromise or share my inner most feelings with my casual lovers. I would do things to sabotage the relationship or I would step it back down to casual friends. And the yin/yang effect when I'd turned down opportunities to be closer emotionally with my lovers was - I lost potential life partners. I told myself I didn't care; I didn't want any deep relationships. Instead, I'd made do with casual fun with boyfriends and girlfriends. It was how I'd kept myself distracted from feeling I was doomed to be lonely.
My relationship style was probably the result of Sandburg genes kicking in, if you went for the nature argument, or for the nurture side you could say I was demonstrating behavior Naomi had modeled when I was a kid. Whatever. I knew I should be more capable of holding onto an intimately emotional friendship at my age, but I couldn't seem to follow through on what it would take to have that level of commitment to a lover. I'd tried with Jim; I'd failed.
Jim had been the person with whom I'd compromised the most, and I probably wouldn't have done that without wanting to be near him for the research; at least at first it was about the research. But he'd become my best friend, and it had been a new experience for me, to be that close to somebody else. I've missed that a lot this last year. I'd fucked up when we became lovers; I don't think I understood how to be physically involved with Jim and also emotionally intimate. God, I'm sorry I harmed him by being so screwed up.
But it's water under the bridge, now. Things have changed and we can't ignore the hard feelings and the actions we've taken to hurt each other. Hell, earlier today I'd confronted him about his shitty behavior concerning my jobs and he hadn't even tried to come up with an excuse for what he did.
The part of Jim connected to the spirit world may have wanted us to be together, but Jim wasn't listening to the spirit world. He had shut and locked that door. I need to live in the real world, and Jim doesn't want me there with him. Tomorrow we'll say goodbye; maybe if the Edwards case goes anywhere, I'll have to come to court and testify about selling my car to Bergman; maybe we'll be further along enough in closure that we could talk and have dinner together for old times sake.
That bit of attempted wall sex he'd had with me - it had been the spirit world trying to give him a kick in the pants. But it hadn't worked; he didn't even remember what he'd done. And that was a pretty good sign things between us weren't about to change.
I'd stick with my plan to apologize for the hurt I'd given him, offer to keep in touch, partly about the case and partly to check on him now and then. I do love him, after all - much good that it does me.
I'd feel him out about telling him about my adventures in Blue Jungle Land. If he was open to it, then I'd tell him what his spirit guide and I have been up to for the past year. But if he wants to blow me off and not listen, well then, I'll just keep my experiences to myself.
I opened my journal and began to write…
~oo~oo~oo~oo~
xxx
Continued in A Fair Distance. Running on Empty. Chapter Eleven