Make Willing the Prey (Dreams by Streetlight) (3 page)

“S
andy, you
simply
have to
find out who sent them.  They’re gorgeous.”

“I don’t have to find out who
sent them.  I can just wait for the next delivery.  I have no problem with
being patient.”

“Don’t be silly.  You don’t want
to go falling head over heels for some dweeb.  He might be sending you
anonymous roses because he’s afraid to show you his face.  He doesn’t want to
you know about the fact that he drools or smells bad, or something stupid like
that.”

“Jina, you’re the one who’s being
silly.  Anyhow, lay off the subject.  I got the roses two days ago, and you
haven’t stopped talking about them.  It’s almost as if you were the one who got
them.”

Jina smiled.  “Sorry.  Anyways. I’ve
got to get to class.”  She freed her hair from under her bag strap, and trotted
off.  “See ya this afternoon!” she called back.

Sandy wondered at how opposite
she and Jina were.  She was always into her predictable books and dusty old
facts of history.  Jina was flighty, switching majors more times than should be
allowed.  Music, drama, art, liberal arts, back to music; all of the things
that Sandy considered to be unimportant to the operation of the world. 

But they had been friends since
high school, and would probably be inseparable for the rest of their lives,
even if their personalities veered further apart over time.  Despite Jina’s
apparent flakiness, she was actually a very bright, wonderful, giving, and
beautiful woman.  Sandy couldn’t remember the number of times she had been
pulled out of one mess or another by Jina.

The TA’s office sat empty and
quiet that morning.  It usually was during the eight o’clock hour.  Most of the
students had lectures at that time, and those who didn’t were sleeping.

A knock sounded on the glass of
the door at 8:15am.  The latch turned, and a head popped in timidly.

“Delivery for Sandy Windham?”

Sandy pulled her nose out of a
book and her feet off the table.  “Yes?  That’s me.”

The Gegorelli’s delivery boy
opened the door fully and presented her with a dozen red roses.

“Two dozen in three days.  Lucky.”

He left, and Sandy lifted the
card.  Attached was a gold foil-wrapped bon-bon.  It looked imported. 

The tag read:

       
To Sandy:

        Roses are red, violets
are blue.

        I like a game.  Would you
like one too?

        Follow my words, it won’t
take too long.

        Spin ‘round three times,
and hum a good song.

        S.A.

Sandy smiled.  The office was
still empty, so she set the vase down, spun herself in a tight circle and began
humming one of the songs Jina had written for her band.  The words went, “Where
are you now.  I want you to show your face to me.  Please stop hiding from what
you know is true.  Are you a coward?  Afraid I will have control over you?  If
I saw you?”  She stopped humming at the guitar solo where the tune became
impossible to reproduce.

She stopped, looked at the roses,
and waited.  For some reason, she had expected something to happen.  How
silly.  She took the chocolate from the card and sat down.

The label on the bottom was
printed in German, which she had never taken the time to learn.  She peeled
back the gold foil wrapper and touched her tongue to the soft chocolate.  It
tingled with the idea of taking a bite.

She bit into it and savored the
sensual flavor.  It was fine chocolate covering fine, dark brown truffle that
she allowed dissolve in her mouth.  The second bite dissolved likewise.  The bon-bon
was large enough for a third bite, so she savored it the same way.

She was falling in love.

Her eyes scanned the page of her
book, and after a dozen paragraphs, she had to start over.  She didn’t know
much about her admirer at all, but she did know he was the sort of person who
would send a woman gifts.  He was also poetic and spontaneous and playful. 
Well-off too, it seemed, to be able to waste money on two dozen roses and
imported chocolate for her.

The clock on the wall grabbed her
attention.  8:30am.  She really needed to get back to her research.  She looked
back at her book and reached for her reading glasses to try to get her mind
focused. 

As she touched her glasses, she
felt something light brush her hand. 

She glanced at the desk, and saw two
long striped legs on her finger.  Another was feeling her thumb, and the other
five led to the spider that was still, mostly, on her glasses.

Her hand instinctively jerked
back and she let out a small scream.  She backed away taking her chair with
her.

The spider was no longer on her
glasses.  She looked at the floor to try to see where she had flung it. 
Nervously, she searched her arm, her clothes, on the floor, under the desk.

She gave in to a shudder.  She
had never seen a spider with such thin, long legs.  And she couldn’t find it. 
It could be hiding anywhere.

Stifling another shudder, Sandy
forced herself to breathe and release the tightness she felt in her stomach. 
It was, after all, only a spider.  Confident now that she had gotten over the
initial scare, she picked up the phone and dialed the extension for the
maintenance office.

“N
ope.  Don’t
see any sign of any creepy-crawlies.  But I’ve sprayed the corners of the room,
if it’ll help you feel better.”  The man in the blue coveralls put a can of
Raid back into his grimy bag, bade her good day, and closed the clattery door.

Sandy leaned back and sighed
again to purge the tension she felt inside – hopefully for the last time.

Rob had come in to see what all
the fuss was about.  “You’re not arachnophobic, are you?” he asked.

“Not anymore.  I was once, as a
kid, but I got over it.  They’re just squishy, harmless little critters.  I
think anyone would have gotten creeped out if a spider come out of nowhere like
that.”

“You got over a phobia?”

“Yeah.  You just have to remind
yourself that they can’t hurt you, and force yourself to be calm.”  She
shrugged.  “It’s not a big deal.  But I would feel better knowing where the
thing went.  I don’t like surprises.”

Rob glanced at the roses.  “You
like some surprises.”

Sandy smiled.  “Yes.  I do like
some surprises.”

S
andy
rolled out of bed with throbbing temples.  She stumbled into the bathroom and
started the water for a shower.  Why did she always get the hangovers when Jina
never did?  Jina drank twice as much.  It didn’t seem fair.

Jina had arranged a small party for
some of her more uppity art friends, and held the gathering at Sandy’s place. 
Sandy kept her apartment as tidy and stylish as her college budget could afford. 
Jina’s slacker friends and roommates preferred Jina’s thrift-store decor for
parties, but that wouldn’t do for Jina’s higher-class friends. 

Sandy didn’t mind much, and she
especially liked the idea of showing off her roses.  The white dozen she put in
the dining room, and the red ones she displayed proudly on her coffee table. 

After her shower Sandy headed for
the kitchen and awoke Jina from the couch on her way out the door.  She glanced
at the flowers before closing the door and wondered when she’d get something
else from him.

Yet the morning in the office
passed with no special deliveries.

It wasn’t until Tuesday
afternoon, when history lab was nearly finished, that the Gregorelli boy shyly
stuck his head into the classroom.

“Sorry to disturb you, Ms.
Windham, but I have another delivery.  They were to be brought directly to your
class.”

“There’s only five minutes left,”
she announced to the class.  “You guys can go early.  Don’t forget Professor
Lingstrum wants you to
read
the chapters this time.”

The delivery boy held the door
and waited until all the students had filed out of the room.  He then set the
vase on Sandy’s desk, and left.  There were more this time.  All red.  There
were two packages attached, wrapped in gold with red ribbons.  There was a
small card on the largest box.  It read:

To Sandy:

The game has begun.

More now, I require.

Go home tonight,

And light up a fire.

Into the flames,

Throw one red, red rose.

Eat all the candy,

As the flame slows.

S.A.

The larger of the two boxes
contained four chocolate truffles.  The smaller held a pair of stylish earrings. 
She immediately put them on before piling her arms full of papers, book bag,
and floral arrangement.

Jina met her in the hall.

“Wow, there are a lot more this
time.  How many is that, two dozen?”

“Yep, exactly two dozen.”

“And chocolates,
and
, I
don’t remember seeing you wear those earrings before.  Those look
expensive
.”

“You always were the observant
one.”

She nodded curtly.  “What a
catch, Sandy.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Jina. 
You’re the one who said he might smell bad, remember?”

“I doubt a guy this confident and
clever has anything wrong with him.  And showering can be taught. 
This
guy is obviously rich, so the rest shouldn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t love matter?” Sandy
asked.

“I suppose, but I’ve always found
love to be highly over-rated.  Especially when there are other benefits in the
relationship.  Hey, can I hang out at your place for a little while tonight?”

“Nope.  There’s not a chance you
are getting these chocolates.  I would like to just spend the evening in quiet
solitude.  I’ll take you home.”

Jina pouted. 

“I can see right through you,
Jina.  You only want me for my chocolate.  You can’t have any.  Let’s go.”