Tempus (38 page)

I watched as he walked to a window, placed his hands on either side, and pressed his forehead to the glass.  I watched his shoulders rise and fall with slow, deep breaths.  I could picture myself going to him, giving him comfort.  My emotions were conflicted.

Inside, my heart was screaming at me to hurry, get up, cross the room.  My head was arguing that I didn’t know him well enough; we’d only just met, regardless of my
memories
.  It seemed to take forever, but was only seconds before my heart won.

I pushed off from the bed, and as I got closer, I saw his shoulders stiffen.  My head warned me to stop now, and I usually listened to it.  Not this time.  I gritted my teeth, slid my arms around his waist from behind, and placed my cheek between his shoulder blades.  If this moment were all I had, then I would make the most of it.  I would make it be enough, and I would never forget again.

Our breathing fell into rhythm.  In and out, deeply, slowly.  I would have sworn our heartbeats matched, but I couldn’t be certain.  Standing against him like that, I felt stronger.  It made me think of those inductive charging systems.  A gadget only had to touch the surface of the charger; no plugging something in, just the proximity was enough.

“How does inductive charging work?”  I asked.

I felt him chuckle and take a deep breath.  “After all of this, you ask a question about simple science?  What do I do with you?”

I felt him try to turn, and even though I didn’t want to let go, I did.  He put his arm around me, walked me to the bed, and pulled me down to sit beside him.  “Is it complicated?  I have a reason for asking.  I’ll explain it, if you tell me how it works.”

He shook his head, laughing a little.  “Certainly, then.  The simplistic answer is that you have two devices—one is made to send power, and one is made to receive power—all they have to do is touch to transfer energy.”

“Can it work both ways?” 

“Not to my knowledge.  One only sends, and the other receives.”  He looked inquisitive.

“I guess that makes you the sender and me the receiver then.”  I didn’t like that idea; I wanted him to feel what I felt.  Did that mean I drained his energy?  No, that meant my mind was going, to even be thinking crazy things like that.

“I see.  You mean that electric feeling when we touch.”

It was my turn to laugh, but more with surprise than humor.  I looked down at my legs, which were swinging restlessly.  “That’s not exactly what made me ask, but it’s one of the things I wondered about.  I thought it was just me.”

“You make me feel like my father.”  He smiled and I frowned.  “
Professor
.  My father is a professor.”  Ah, now I understood what he meant.  “You know all matter is energy, right?”

“That’s the theory.”

“No, that’s a fact, and if all matter is energy, then
you and I
are energy.  Energy can be neither created, nor destroyed, only transformed, but it is still energy, and it can be exchanged.”  He explained.

“Okay, so you and I are energy.”  I said.  “What does that have to do with that feeling?”

“Imagine that our energy is different, yet the same frequency.”  He stopped and tapped his fingers.  “North and south poles.  Biomagnetics.  It’s a
biophysical
thing.”  He shook his head.  “It would be too hard to explain this.  Let’s just say that we are—magnetically matched.  Not romantic sounding, I know, but it’s real.”

“I don’t know what to say about that.”  I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, but I thought I had an idea.

“Haven’t you ever seen a couple who appear to be physically mismatched, yet there is an obvious attraction?  They also seem to be happier than most, and others can’t understand.”

“I guess I have.  Not often, though.”

“Precisely.  That’s because people rely too much on looks alone, ignoring what’s beneath.  Physical attributes are nice,” his eyes looked me over appreciatively, “but by no means what’s most important.  There is so much more, but it is missed, or ignored.  There’s a deeper connection to be had, for everyone, if they were only patient.”

I looked at his beautiful face.  “So I guess that means I’m the ugly one.”  I didn’t like that.

He ruffled my hair.  “You are ludicrous.  Looks are irrelevant.  Sometimes they match, sometimes they don’t—it doesn’t matter—but if it makes you feel better, I am immeasurably physically attracted to you.”  His eyes burned into mine for a moment, stealing my breath.

I squinted my eyes at him.  “And if I were ugly?”

“It wouldn’t matter, though I’m glad you’re not.”  He winked.  “I’d still know you were the one.  I think I can demonstrate, maybe.”  He looked around the room for a moment.  “I planned to use a blindfold, but I don’t have anything which will suffice, and I don’t want you suspecting I can see.” 

He glanced at the bed beneath us.  “I’m going to lay face down, and once you’re sure I can’t see anything, I want you to hold your hand above me.  Pick a place that I can name, hold your hand above me, and I will tell you where your hand is.”

“But you’ll be able to feel the heat, won’t you?”  I asked.

“Hold it far away, then, a foot or two.  I want you to imagine you are touching me, pretend that you are sending out energy to touch me.  If you do that, I can feel it in seconds, you’ll see.”  He turned over on the bed and put his face in the pillow.  “Ready when you are.”

I felt a little childish, but he looked
so cute
.  I took a few seconds to check him out, looked at the back of his head, his shoulders, down his back to his…

“I can feel your eyes, you know.”

My eyes jerked away and I blushed.  I was glad his face was in the pillow.  I shot my hand straight out over his right shoulder.  Before I even had a chance to stop moving, he spoke.

“Right shoulder.”

“Hey, I didn’t even stop moving yet!”

“I know, but I can feel every move you make,” As he was speaking, I started moving my hand as if I were moving down his side.  “And you moving your hand down my side feels very much like a caress.”

I jerked my hand back and he laughed.  “I don’t know what else to do then.”  I said.

“It’s not as easy with just your eyes.  Your eyes usually have to focus clearly before I can be certain of their location.”  He laughed, and I knew why.

I raised my hand and made a ‘smacking’ gesture above his butt.  He flinched and then it was my turn to laugh.  “This makes me feel like I have super powers!”  I pretended to tickle his side and he wiggled.  “This is so cool!”

He flipped over quickly and startled me.  “My turn!”

My first thought was that he intended to get even.  “I don’t know if I can do it.”  I said.

“It’s not something you necessarily
do
.  You’ll see what I mean.”

I traded places with him and buried my face in the pillow.  I was nervous.  What if I couldn’t do it?  Would that be a bad thing?  I kind of liked the whole ‘magnetic match’ thing, for some reason…  “You’re not allowed to touch, that’s cheating.”  He interrupted my thoughts by putting a hand on my thigh.

“I’m not touching you, Jessie.”

“Yes you are, I can feel your fingers.”  I could distinctly feel them, four fingers, a thumb, and his palm.  Every part of his hand, including the warmth.

“I’m not touching you, Jessie.  Concentrate on what you feel, and slowly look back.”

I concentrated on the feel of his hand, and slowly raised my head, turning it to the side.

He wasn’t even near me.  He was close to four feet away, with his hand out.  I could still feel fingers on my leg, even the heat, and it was somewhat unnerving.  I turned to look at my leg, and I could feel his hand move down to my knee.  I reached back with my own hand and touched the same place.  There was nothing solid there, but I felt the energy.

“How can you
do
that?” 

He dropped his hand and the sensation was gone.  He walked back over to me and sat down.  “I can control it, for the most part.  It’s like releasing energy, and controlling how much is released.”

He held his hand over mine.  At first, I didn’t feel anything, but then I could slowly feel a subtle change, as if his hand were moving closer, even though I was watching, and it never moved.  It was the heat I felt first, the warmth spreading over my hand, then a little weight, and my skin tingled.  As he continued, I began to feel every finger, individually.  I wiggled my fingers, and it felt like
his
hand moved with my movement.  His hand that wasn’t there.

“Can you do this to anybody, to everybody?”  I asked.

“Not like this.”  He smiled.

“Can you
feel
other people?”

“Not like
you
.”  His head tilted toward me slightly.

I kept my eyes on his, but I thought how I would like to pull him closer, feel his lips on mine.  I already knew how they would feel.

“Only if you mean it.”  He whispered.

I felt my eyes widen.  “If I mean what?”  The words barely came out.

“You tell me.  You direct me. 
I will follow
.” 

My heart rate doubled.  Could I? 
Should
I?  I tried to keep my eyes focused on his beautiful blue ones.  I didn’t want to give anything away.  I imagined him raising his left hand to my cheek, and then watched as he moved, just as I imagined.

I imagined him being pulled toward me by an invisible force, and as he shifted closer, I could sense that he was allowing my pull to be stronger than his.  I could
feel
the energy, I could feel myself pulling him, and I could feel him yielding.  I imagined our lips touching gently.

I could feel the kiss before we even touched.  When our lips met, it made fireworks seem dull and boring.  I kept it slow, and I knew I was in complete control.  I was in complete control because he allowed me to be.  I stopped, but didn’t move, left our lips together, breathing him like air.  My lungs never felt so full.

This had to be the closest possible thing to heaven on earth. 
Almost
.  The moment the thought crossed my mind, I felt him take over.  It wasn’t just his energy that took control; he physically placed his arms around me, released my lips, and pulled me tight.

“Be
very
careful what you try with that.  I’m not as strong as I should be,” His breath was ragged, and irregular.  “And you are stronger than you know.”

Everything about him, the way he held me, the way he smelled, the taste of his lips, the feel of his skin—it was all coming back.  How had I forgotten?  How was I remembering?

“Gabriel, I still don’t understand.  I need to understand.  I remember you, the feel of you; I know I’ve been here.”  I felt on the verge of tears.  “I just don’t know
how
I remember.  I don’t remember anything but you.  Am I losing my mind?”  Oh, god, that felt like a real possibility.

“You’re not, love, you’re not.”  He stroked my hair. 

I felt surrounded by energy and warmth and calmness.  I could feel it envelope me, draped around me like a warm blanket on a cold night.  Like a blanket wrapped around us both.  I knew he was doing it, but I didn’t feel manipulated, I felt cared for,
loved
.

Time and space are modes by which we think and not conditions in which we live.

—Albert Einstein

There was a soft knock on the door, and it broke through the magnetism long enough for me to feel a chilly rush of air and I shivered.  “Come in, Father.”  He said quietly.

Gabriel didn’t let me go.  I had a moment of feeling extremely awkward and embarrassed.  I didn’t know his father, and here I was wrapped in his stranger-sons arms. 
Thomas
.  The realization slapped me in the face.  Thomas. 
Call me Thomas.

I buried my face in Gabriel's chest to hide my blush.  I imagined his hands coming up to shield me from prying eyes, and his hands followed where my thoughts lead.  “It’s okay,
Jessie
, I promise.  Father knows
everything
.”

I heard the footsteps enter the room.  It was silent, no words exchanged, and then I heard a loud sigh. 
Thomas
.  “How much does she remember now?”  His deep voice asked. 
Call me Thomas
.

“She remembers
me
.”  Gabriel replied, his arms tightening noticeably.

“I didn’t come to take her away, Gabriel, don’t suffocate her.”  He chuckled, and I felt Gabriel relax slightly.

I was torn between staying exactly as I was, or turning to face
Thomas
Knight.  The internal struggle was painful, and I was beginning to feel a little panicky.  Few things made me panic.

“Jessie, you’ve met my father—many times—you should get reacquainted.”  Gabriel whispered.  He still had me in the near headlock I had wanted, but he let his hands begin to slide away.  I mentally stopped him for a moment, and he complied.

“That’s much more than you exchanged before, Jessie.  We must be on to something.”  It was Mr. Knights' voice.