All In Time

by Ciana Stone

  Everyone laughed and the conversation turned to mundane topics like films they’d seen, books they’d read and favorite places they liked to go. It was clear to Morgan that Kelly and Chris had far more in common than he and Kelly did. And it looked like they had definitely taken an interest in one another.

  He and Sara on the other hand seemed cut from similar cloths. They both preferred museums to nightclubs, hiking to dancing and they shared an eclectic taste in film and music. If Morgan didn’t know better, he’d swear this was a made-to-order woman.

  Even down to her looks. Sara was a woman of subtle beauty. There was nothing flamboyant or flashy about her. Her hair was a soft warm brown that danced with amber and gold highlights, and her eyes were a soft sea-foam green that darkened and lightened depending upon her emotions.

  She had flawless creamy skin that was unmarred by makeup and artifice, and her figure was something he was certain he would fantasize about. Full, lush breasts, a narrow waist and generous hips gave her a classic hourglass shape that appealed both to the man and the artist within him.

  He found her interesting and most importantly, mysterious. Morgan had always been attracted to the mysterious. There was enough mystery in Sara’s eyes to keep him interested, he suspected, for a very long time.

  When the evening came to an end, he was disappointed. They all walked out together. “Where’s your car?” he asked.

  “I rode with Kel,” she replied. “We’re parked across the street.”

  “Oh, okay. This was fun, Sara. I’d like to call you, if that’s okay.”

  “I’d really like that,” she replied and dug a card out of her oversized canvas purse.

  Morgan read the card and smiled. “I’d like to see some of your work.”

  “Maybe,” she said with a smile. “Good night, Morgan. It’s been a real honor meeting you.”

  “Please, no more of that,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll call you soon. Good night, Sara.”

  She smiled and stood on tiptoe to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek, then turned and literally danced away with Kelly, the two of them laughing and bumping into one another the way women are prone to do who are comfortable and happy in one another’s company. Morgan smiled as he watched Sara take Kelly’s hand as they crossed the street.

  “That Kelly’s really something,” Chris said from beside him. “I take it you don’t mind if I call her.”

  “Seems like a good idea to me,” Morgan replied then turned to his friend with a smile. “Thanks. I needed this.”

  “It’s good to see you smile again,” Chris replied and slapped Morgan on top of the shoulder in a brotherly manner. “Give me a call if you want to get in a game of racquetball later this week.”

  “Will do,” Morgan replied.

  “Later,” Chris said and turned to head for his car.

  Morgan stood there a few moments longer. What had started out to be a horrible day had taken a very interesting turn. Sara had eased the torment and made him feel at ease with himself. He wished he could think it was a permanent fix, but would be happy to just have the feeling last through the night.

  Chapter Four

  Sara stood in the darkness of her bedroom and stared at the framed photograph on the wall. She would never view the image in the same light. Meeting Morgan Nicholaus had changed that. Not only had it been one of the biggest surprises of her life, it was an experience that had generated unexpected results.

  Like the Sight trying to take her in the middle of a crowded bar. That had never happened before. What was it about Morgan that had such a profound effect on her? Was her sexual attraction for him confusing her, making her get her wires crossed? No, it was more than that. He had to be the man she was sent here for.

  But what was she supposed to save him from? He was famous and wealthy and from all appearances led an enviable life. She sank down on the floor, still staring at the photograph, watching the light from the window slant across the wall, illuminating the woman’s face and turn her hair to radiance.

  Who are you, Morgan Nicholaus? What do you mean to me and how am I supposed to save you?

  She had to know the answers. Determined to start the quest for them immediately, she rose and went into her office, or studio as she sometimes called it. She started her Mac and sat down in front of it, pulling the oversized graphics tablet to her lap.

  The familiar image of a lotus blossom appeared on the screen. Once she’d created a new file, she picked up the stylus and let her hand lie limply on the tablet. As she’d been taught by Danu, she closed her eyes and took a long deep breath. She made sure to breathe from her belly, pulling the air deep into her lungs, letting her abdomen expand then her chest. When her collarbones rose and lifted up and out, she held the breath for several heartbeats then began to slowly release it.

  Twice more she repeated the process, feeling the calm that washed over her. When the final cleansing breath was done, she opened her inner eye and let her mind fill with whatever impressions came to her.

  She was unaware of the motions of her hand moving quickly on the tablet. Unaware of the picture taking shape on the oversized monitor perched on her desk. She lost track of time and even of herself, caught up in a swirling eddy of images that she didn’t even try to interpret. She simply let them come and go, and remained a silent observer.

  Time passed without acknowledgement or realization. Sara was lost, once more a traveler.

  * * * * *

  Morgan watched the digital display on the clock change. It was three in the morning and sleep would not come. The moment he walked into the house the demons returned, plaguing him with their whispered voices.

  If only he could understand what they said. He’d tried for years to silence them, to no avail. No amount of alcohol, drugs, sex or therapy could quell the whispers. He’d learned that the hard way.

  He’d hoped the positive glow he had while around Sara would last at least for the night, but that obviously was not to be.

  “What the fuck do you want?” he shouted and hurled his pillow at the clock, sending it tumbling to the floor where it lay like a sentinel, its bright red eye of time silently watching.

  The whispers grew in volume, their number increasing until it seemed that every voice on the planet was speaking in a raspy hiss, competing with all others to be heard and creating a dissonance that threatened to send him spiraling into madness, back into that dark place that so frightened him.

  Morgan jumped out of bed and threw on a sweatsuit, hurriedly putting on his shoes to race out of the house. His pace was fast as he ran, pushing himself to the limits of his endurance, as if he could outrun the voices that clamored to be heard, to be understood.

  It was the course of his life. Always running. From what, he wasn’t sure. Toward what, he didn’t have a clue.

  * * * * *

  Sara jolted back to reality at the shriek of the phone. Her hand stilled on the graphics tablet and she blinked her eyes to restore moisture. How long had she been sitting there? The level of light in the room told her it was day.

  She put aside the question of time as she reached for the phone.

  “I was about to hang up,” Kelly announced before Sara even had time to say hello. “Where’ve you been?”

  “What do you mean?” Sara asked.

  “You sound like you just woke up.”

  “Ummm…” Sara didn’t want to lie so she tried to avoid the question. She had never made Kelly privy to certain aspects of her life.

  “So are you coming to the class or not?” Kelly asked.

  The question didn’t register in Sara’s mind. Her eyes were glued to the image on the monitor.

  “Sara? Sara?” Kelly screamed her name.

  “What?” Sara asked, scooting her seat closer to the desk to study the image on the monitor.

  “Are you coming to class?”

  “Class?”

  “Duh, Earth to Sara. The rock-climbing class we signed up for last week. I’m at the center
now. The next class starts in half an hour.”

  “Oh!” Truth be told, Sara had forgotten about it. “Ummm, no, not today. Maybe next time.”

  “But we’ve already signed up! And I don’t want to do it by myself.”

  Sara grimaced at the whine that came into Kelly’s voice. As much as she loved her friend, her tendency to whine was one thing she could live without.

  “I have to go, Kel. Call you later.”

  She ended the call before Kelly could argue. The image on the monitor held her captive. The more she looked at it, the more agitated she felt. She broke into a sweat, and her breath hitched in her chest. Eyes that had grown wide scanned the image, fear mounting with each passing second.

  It was something from a nightmare, a scene of fear and death that made tears stream down her face and sobs build in her throat. She reached for the keyboard, intent upon deleting the horrifying image. But something stopped her. Her fingers hovered above the keys. She wanted to delete it. Forget she’d even seen it, much less drawn it. But it had to be important. She never drew anything when taken by the Sight that was not significant.

  With trepidation at the idea of discovering the meaning of the image, she saved the file, then picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Can I come over?” she asked as soon as the call was answered. “I need to show you something.”

  “Are you all right, Sara?” the soothing voice asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come.”

  “I’ll be there in an hour. Thanks.”

  As soon as she ended the call, she made a copy of the image and burned it onto a CD. That done, she hurried to the shower.

  * * * * *

  Morgan was whipped. This was his second run, and he didn’t think he had the energy to make it home. He’d run nearly ten miles in the dark hours of the morning and returned home to fall across the couch. Sleep had come almost immediately but he’d been asleep only three hours when the dreams came.

  He’d wakened soaked in sweat with the voices whispering in his mind. He’d tried to quell them by listening to music, going through the last batch of photos he’d taken and trying to concentrate on what images to include in his next show. But the voices wouldn’t let him concentrate.

  The louder they grew the stronger his anxiety became. His heart raced, he felt hot then cold, he couldn’t sit still. Soon he felt like he was going to jump out of his skin. So he headed out again, running as hard and fast as he could.

  He lasted about three miles at a full-out run before his energy ran out. Even in near exhaustion his mind was tormented with whispers. He looked up and saw a car headed his way, and for a moment contemplated just jumping out in front of it.

  But fate had another idea. He didn’t notice the chunk of broken pavement until he landed on it wrong and pitched to one side, his ankle rolling over as he did, causing pain to shoot up his leg.

  “Shit!” he cursed as he limped off the edge of the road into the tall grass. Just what he needed. A sprain and a couple of miles to his house. Great.

  “Can I be of help?” A woman’s voice drew his attention.

  The car he’d considering throwing himself in front of had stopped. A middle-aged woman with kind brown eyes and long graying hair pulled back into a braid got out and approached him.

  “I just twisted my ankle,” Morgan said.

  “I know. I saw. Where do you live?”

  “Couple of miles up the road.” He pointed in the way he’d been headed.

  “Why don’t I drive you home?” she asked.

  “I’d appreciate it,” he replied.

  “Come,” she said and slipped one arm under his and around his back. “Let’s get you into the car.”

  Morgan accepted the help even though he thought he could have made it alone. Once he was in the car, she circled around the front and got in behind the wheel. “I appreciate this,” Morgan said. “But how do you know I’m not someone who’d knock you over the head and steal your car and purse?”

  The woman laughed. “Oh, let’s just say I have a sense about people. But it would be nice to know your name. I’m Nadine.”

  “Morgan Nicholaus,” he replied.

  “Nice to meet you, Morgan,” she said as she turned the car around and headed back the direction she’d come.

  There was silence until they neared the driveway to Morgan’s house. “You can drop me here,” Morgan said. “Right there, that drive on the right.”

  “Nonsense,” Nadine said and turned into the drive. “So, you bought the old Wilkins place. I wondered.”

  “You knew the previous owners?”

  “Not really. I saw him in town from time to time. Does it bother you that he died in the house?”

  Morgan looked at her in surprise. “He did?”

  “Oops, sorry,” she said with a smile as she stopped in front of the house. “I’d assumed you were told when you bought the place. Yes, he died in bed. From what I hear it was a peaceful passing.”

  “Oh.” Morgan didn’t want to admit that it kind of gave him the creeps to know that he was living in a house someone had died in. Had he known he might not have bought the place.

  “But that shouldn’t concern you,” Nadine said as she opened her door. “His wife had died the year before and the poor man was just lost without her. I imagine he was happy to join her,” she said when she had his door open.

  “You think so?” Morgan asked, accepting her help to get out of the car.

  “Oh, without a doubt,” she replied. “Now let’s just get you inside then I’ll get out of your way.”

  As they headed up the sidewalk, Morgan realized he hadn’t heard one single whisper since Nadine had stopped her car to help him. That thought turned his attention back to the voices, and thoughts of the voices made his anxiety spike again.

  “Honey, are you okay?” she asked as he fumbled for his key. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

  “Yeah,” he responded. “Probably just…uh, the ankle. Pain, you know.”

  “Maybe I should take you to the hospital. If it’s broken then you’ll want to get it looked at right away.”

  “No. No.” He unlocked the door and slid away from her support. “I’m sure it’s just a strain or sprain or whatever you call it. Thanks for your help, Nadine.”

  She said nothing for a few moments, but it seemed to him that her soft brown eyes looked right into his soul. Finally she nodded and stepped back. ‘Take care, Morgan Nicholaus.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate the help.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Thanks again, Nadine.”

  “Any time.” She turned away and returned to her car. Morgan stepped inside and closed the door. He’d just started peeling off his sweatshirt when there was a knock at the door.

  Tossing the sweatshirt over a chair, he opened the door to find Nadine on his doorstep. “Hey.”

  She held her hand out to him. “Just in case,” she said.

  Morgan looked down at her hand. In it was a card. He took it. A soft lilac in color, it bore a stylized image of a lotus blossom on it along with her name and a phone number.

  He couldn’t imagine why she would give him her card, or what it signified. “If you want help with the voices,” she said and turned away.

  Morgan couldn’t have responded if he’d wanted to. He was stunned speechless. How could she have known?

  * * * * *

  Sara sat on the front steps of Nadine’s small house and waited. It wasn’t like Nadine to tell her to come over and not be there. Sara hoped nothing was wrong. She’d wait ten more minutes then she’d call again. Nadine hadn’t answered her cell phone the last two times she’d tried.

  At that moment, Nadine’s little hybrid car rounded the bend in the tree-sheltered drive. Sara jumped up and walked out to meet her.

  “I’m sorry, honey,” Nadine said as she got out of the car. “I was going to scoot over to the store for cream before you got here.”

&nbs
p; “Where is it?” Sara asked as Nadine closed the car door and started for the house.

  “Oh!” Nadine chuckled. “Fate decided I didn’t need cream with my tea after all.”

  “What does that mean?” Sara followed Nadine inside.

  “Just a nice man with a sprained ankle who needed a lift,” Nadine passed it off. “Now tell me. What happened?”

  Sara pulled the CD from her pocket. “Can I use your computer?”

  “Sure, my laptop’s on the table.”

  Sara sat down at the kitchen table and booted up the laptop as Nadine filled a kettle with water and put it on the boil. Once the image was loaded and displayed on the screen, Sara turned the laptop around.

  “Look at this.”

  Nadine turned and looked at the computer. For a moment she stood frozen. Then she took a seat and pulled the laptop closer. “When did you do this?”

  “Last night.”

  Nadine nodded, still focused on the screen. For several minutes there was silence. The whistle of the kettle drew Nadine from her seat. She busied herself preparing tea. When she reclaimed her seat, she didn’t look at the computer. She focused on Sara.

  “Tell me what you did before you painted this.”

  “Technically I didn’t paint it. I did it on—”

  “Honey, I know. Now tell me.”

  “Well, last night I went out with Kelly to JT’s and…oh my god!” Excitement appeared in her voice, along with a measure of anxiety. “I met Morgan Nicholaus. The Morgan Nicholaus.”

  Nadine smiled. “The Seraphim photographer.”

  “Yes. And it was…well, part of it was just horrible. Nadine, something happened. When I met him, I mean. I looked into his eyes and something just…came over me. It was like…god, I don’t know what it was. Like being hit by a truck. Time stopped, sort of. Nothing existed but his eyes. There was no sound, nothing. Then the next thing I knew I was waking up on the floor.”

  “Keep going,” Nadine said as she got up to pour the tea.

  Sara recited the events of the previous evening, trying as best she could to describe the strange effect Morgan had on her, and the attraction she felt for him. By the time she’d finished, they’d both had two cups of tea and were working on a third.