For Centuries More

by Ethan Johnson

  “Yeah.”

  The hostess waved to a man dressed in a black suit with highly polished shoes and short, glossy black hair. He stepped over to Gracie and leaned in to speak to her discreetly. “Good evening. I must inform you that this establishment observes a formal dress code.”

  Gracie’s stomach soured. Annabella stood there smiling, unaware of what the man had said. He motioned for the two of them to leave. Annabella looked confused. “What’s the problem?” The man leaned over and whispered in her ear. Annabella’s face darkened, and she whispered something back.

  He shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, I must ask you to leave.” Annabella reached into her purse and leaned in once more to speak into the man’s ear. As she spoke, she pressed something into his hand. His expression took on a formal pallor, and he nodded stiffly. “Let me see what I can do.” He gestured for a server to follow him into the dining room.

  Gracie stood close to the exit, unsure of what was happening. As she inhaled to apologize to Annabella for ruining their date and offering to drive her home, the man returned with a server laden with menus. “Miss Morris? Garrison will seat you now.”

  Annabella waved for Gracie to walk in front of her. The server led them to the back of the restaurant and into a private dining room. He pulled Gracie’s seat out and pushed it in as she sat down, and performed the ritual for Annabella, who accepted a napkin across her lap once she was seated at the table. A napkin was draped across Gracie’s lap as well, then menus were placed in their hands. A stiff folder was placed upright on the table. The server announced that it was the wine list, stepped back as another server set down two wine glasses and filled them with ice water. Annabella smiled at her, then at Gracie. After the servers left the room, she flipped her menu open and beamed. “Very nice place, Gracie. I’m impressed on what you arranged on such short notice.”

  Gracie was dumbfounded but managed a squeaky “uh-huh.” She opened her own menu and tried to prevent her eyes from popping out. The menu was sparse, but the cheapest item on the list was $25. Wait, she thought, wasn’t this on a list of “affordable” romantic restaurants? She was expecting something like $25 per person, with soft drinks. Panic struck when Annabella reached over and picked up the wine list. She divided her attention between the menu and the wine list, then looked up.

  “I’ll probably have the steak, with mashed potatoes and green beans. What are you having?”

  Gracie panicked. “Uh, I guess the shrimp.”

  Annabella shook her head, trying to reconcile her pick with the offerings on the menu. “Do you mean the shrimp cocktail?” Gracie nodded, and Annabella squinted at her. “Sweetie, that only comes with four shrimp,” she held her thumb and forefinger about two inches apart, “and they’re like, this big. Here, what about the sockeye salmon? You could get it with rice pilaf and green beans as well.”

  Gracie’s eyes darted down to the salmon, which was marked as $40 and didn’t mention any sides in the listing. She found a list of the sides at the bottom of the menu in smaller print: The rice was $10, and the green beans were $8. This dinner was going to completely clean her out, and that was just the food. Her eyes bulged involuntarily as Annabella looked over the wine list and announced, “Ooh, a glass of Chateau Bonne Chance sounds heavenly. Have you tried it?”

  “Um, uh, no. Actually, I don’t drink wine.”

  “Tch. Well, we’ll have to do something about that.”

  Their server entered the room and stood stiffly beside their table with his hands behind his back. “Do you have any questions about the menu, or are you ready to order?”

  “No, I’m ready,” Annabella said. “Are you ready, Gracie?”

  “Um, go ahead.”

  The server leaned over attentively and didn’t write anything down. Annabella ordered the strip steak medium rare with mashed potatoes and green beans, and a glass of Chateau Bonne Chance. The server shook his head apologetically. “I’m sorry, that’s only available by the bottle.” Annabella apologized and ordered the bottle. “And for you, miss?”

  Gracie’s throat was bone dry, and her stomach felt sour. Never mind dinner, she prayed her debit card wouldn’t be declined after the food, wine, tax, and tip. She tried to play it cool. “Yes, the pork chop, and uh, just a side salad.” $38 all told.

  “Very good, and would you like anything else to drink besides water, and the wine?”

  “N-no, water is fine.”

  The server nodded. “Very good. We’ll have that out shortly. My assistant Shannon will be bringing you bread in just a moment, and my name is Garrison, if you need anything.” As he turned to leave, Annabella called out to him.

  “Oh, can we get a shrimp cocktail as well?”

  “Of course, right away.” He gestured to his assistant and they exited the private dining room.

  Crap! Gracie was certain her debit card was going to bounce big time. She hoped maybe someday she’d be able to laugh about this with her next girlfriend.

  Annabella reached across the table and motioned for Gracie to take her hands. Gracie did, and Annabella gave her a sultry stare. “Hey, big spender.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “As I was saying, I’m very impressed. You really know how to make a girl feel special. I would have been happy with a hot dog and a park bench, but this… I mean, wow!”

  Gracie gulped. “Uh, yeah, well, it’s our first date, and…”

  Annabella glanced from side to side to make sure nobody was within earshot before she spoke. “Gracie, let me get this.”

  Gracie recoiled in horror. “Uh, no, no… I’m uh, kinda old-fashioned. I believe the girl who made the date has to pay, and I insist that, uh…”

  “And I would like my date to be relaxed and not crapping her pants about money. We can do the hot dog and park bench thing next time, and you can be as old-fashioned as you like. Gracie, it’s okay. I was serious about being impressed, even if you reached a bit too far.”

  Gracie’s cheeks burned. “Impressed how? Look at me, I couldn’t have blown this any harder if I tried.” Her eyes began to mist.

  Annabella squeezed her hands. “I’m impressed that I mean enough to you for you to go this far out of your comfort zone to take me out to dinner.” She shot a glance at the door. “The wine is coming. Let me take care of this. I want you to enjoy yourself, okay?”

  Gracie nodded and pulled her hand away to wipe her eyes. “Okay, sure.”

  A basket of bread was placed on the table by Shannon, and Garrison set two wine glasses on the table and pulled the cork from an expensive-looking bottle of French wine. He held the label to Annabella, who nodded her approval. He poured a small serving of the wine and waited for her to sniff it, then swirl the bit of wine around before sipping it and swishing it around in her mouth. After a moment, she exhaled and smiled at her server, then at Gracie. “Oh, my, that’s sublime.”

  Garrison poured the wine into her glass, stopping about halfway. He turned to Gracie and offered to pour her some as well. She gave Annabella an uncertain look and shrugged. “Sure.” He poured wine into her glass in equal measure, then set the bottle down.

  “Your shrimp cocktail will be out in just a moment.”

  “Thank you.” Annabella waited for the pair to leave the room once more, then raised her glass. Gracie raised hers and held it over her place setting. “To… possibilities.” Gracie nodded, and clinked her glass against Annabella’s. They sipped their wine, and Annabella sat back with an air of supreme satisfaction. Gracie suppressed a cough.

  Annabella set her glass down and smiled at Gracie. “So: tell me all about yourself.”

  “Um, well, I don’t know where to start.”

  “Why do you go by ‘Gracie’ and not ‘Lauren’?”

  CHAPTER 20: RESTITUTION

  Gene’s face reddened, and he hissed a warning through gritted teeth, so as not to wake up the entire manor. “Oh, you’ve got a problem with me? How about your doofus boyfriend, sticking his nose in my business? Ho
w about you crawl back into your crib, and we forget this ever happened?” He took a menacing step forward. Aubra did not flinch. Gene felt a surge of pure rage rush to his forehead, then his mouth curled into a sneer, and he turned his back on her dismissively. He pushed his door open and stepped inside, only to be followed closely by Aubra.

  Gene’s eyes bulged as he closed the door. “No witnesses, just so you know.”

  Aubra folded her arms tightly once more and gave him an admonishing stare. “None that you know of, and if you want to hurt me, I won’t stop you. But I am going to tell you something you deserve to hear.”

  Gene blew a puff of air up into his mustache. “Oh, really? And what’s that?”

  “You’re a bully.”

  Gene glared at Aubra, then broke into laughter. “Oh, a bully? That’s the worst you’ve got? Fine, yeah, sure, I’m a bully. Thank you, and good night. Out.”

  Aubra shook her head. “I’m not leaving until you fix what you did.”

  “And what’s that? Seems to me, I’m guilty of daring to sleep in my own bed. And it also seems to me that you’re someplace that you have no right to be. So, how about you go back to your room, and I’ll do whatever I feel like doing, because I’m a fricking grown-up?”

  Aubra’s voice turned to steel. “Grown-ups don’t play nasty tricks on young boys.”

  Gene shrugged. “Yeah, well, he had it coming. Bye.”

  “Then you leave me no choice,” Aubra said.

  Gene chuckled and crouched down to look her in the eye. “Should I be afraid, little girl?”

  Aubra reached out and grabbed his head. His forehead felt ablaze, and his entire body felt like he was being stabbed with thousands of white-hot needles. He tried to push her away, but she maintained her iron grip and fell on top of him when he doubled over in pain. Her voice was strong and resonant now, like the very god of judgment.

  “Eugene Vernon Swolski, you are a thief and a murderer. I know about Sharon. I know about Hector. I know about the hardware store. I know about the money you stole when you came to New York. I know what name you used when Mister Steele hired you. I know what you did to James tonight, and earlier this afternoon. And tonight, you will start to make up for what you did.”

  Gene howled in agony. “Help! This kid is killing me! Somebody… help!”

  “Fix your mess.”

  “Look… he started it. I don’t like… people in my… private business.”

  Aubra leaned in, nearly touching him nose to nose. “You don’t have any private business here. Fix your mess.”

  Gene raised his arms submissively. “Okay… okay… just make it stop!” Aubra let go of his head and stood over him as he laid on his back, beaten.

  James awoke to find Aubra and Gene standing over him. He had an uncomfortable feeling around his waist, and before he could pull his covers away, Aubra stopped him. “Mister Gene has something to say to you.”

  James turned fearfully to Gene, who looked like a schoolboy called to the principal’s office. “I’m sorry I made you wet the bed.”

  James’s face contorted into a mask of disgust. He pulled the covers away, and leapt from the bed, leaving behind a large wet spot. He looked down at his soaked pajamas and could only manage a sustained “ewwww” at the discovery of what had happened while he slept. He looked up at Gene, furious.

  Aubra tugged his arm. “He said he was sorry. What do you say?”

  James grimaced. “What do I say? I say, what the hell is…”

  Aubra tugged his arm again and wagged her finger in admonishment. “He said he was sorry. What do you say?”

  “Well, okay, fine, I accept your apology. Now, what am I going to do for a bed tonight? This is disgusting.”

  Aubra looked up at Gene. “Well?”

  Gene sighed and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a key ring and sorted through them until he found a long brass key. He isolated it with a pinch, and he handed the keys to James. “You can use my shower. I’ll get this bed replaced before you get back. Just don’t use my…” Aubra gave him a stern look. “I mean, use whatever you need.”

  Aubra turned to James. “Is that fair?”

  James looked at the key, then at the two of them. “Yeah, okay.”

  “Say it.”

  “Replacing the bed and letting me use your shower is fair. I accept.”

  “Shake hands,” Aubra said.

  Gene and James looked at Aubra in surprise and annoyance, but they obeyed. They shook hands, and James headed toward Gene’s private quarters. Aubra nodded toward the bed, and Gene began to strip the bedding under her watchful eye. He removed the top mattress and set it out in the hallway and was going to simply swap it out with another one, but she wouldn’t let him cut any corners. She made him remove the entire bed, down to the frame, and bring in a new one from one of the newly furnished dorm rooms. Two new students were arriving from India next week. Gene tried to argue this point but was voted down by Aubra’s icy stare.

  “Find a replacement before they get here,” Aubra said.

  “There’s nothing wrong with the fricking box spring or the frame.”

  “Replace all of it.”

  Gene huffed. “Fine.”

  It took ten minutes to set up the replacement bed, and James returned wearing Gene’s bathrobe, pinching the key to his quarters. He handed the keys back to Gene, who looked him up and down and inhaled to complain about the bathrobe but thought better of it. Gene nodded his acceptance of the key ring. Aubra granted Gene permission to return to his quarters. After giving James a few moments to change into new bed clothes, she returned and stood beside him as he tried to acclimate to the new mattress and bedding.

  “Better?”

  “Yeah, thanks. How did you know? And how did you make him… do all of that?”

  She gave him a strange smile, then leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “Purity of heart.”

  James gave her a horrified look. “What did you just say?”

  Aubra walked away and didn’t look back. She pulled the door closed with a soft click.

  James laid in the darkness, clutching his new comforter and top sheet. Purity of heart. That’s what Agnes had said to him. Agnes. Purity of heart. Aubra. Who was she? Why was she here? How did she know about Agnes? Purity of heart. Agnes.

  Gray smoke clouds swirled around in his head, and in an instant, he was transported back to Agnes’s room in his non-physical form. He knelt beside her, and smiled as he looked upon her sleeping face, still pressed against her pillow. He reached out and stroked her hair.

  “Purity of heart,” he said softly.

  “Purity of thought,” Agnes mumbled.

  James pulled his hand away. Was this some sort of code? He felt as though there was something more he should say, but the words did not come. After a few moments, Agnes shifted around fitfully on her bed, reached out for a healing touch that was no longer there. James stroked her hair once more, and Agnes settled down with a contented smile. James longed to touch her physically but could not. Another dark wisp began to rise from her as he methodically moved his hand back and forth against her, ethereally.

  Agnes crinkled her nose. “What’s your name?”

  “James.”

  “I’m Agnes.”

  “I know.”

  “Do we know each other?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “But you love me.”

  James winced. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I think I meant I have a love for you, like compassion, or empathy. I didn’t like to see you hurting, and I wanted to help you.”

  “Why would you apologize for loving me?” Agnes tilted her head.

  “I’m sorry. I just… I just don’t know what to do.”

  Agnes’s lips widened into a broad smile, and she appeared to be on the verge of opening her eyes. “You’re doing just fine. Keep stroking my back, it feels nice.”

  James nodded, and continued the motions, despite not being able to physica
lly touch her. Another black shape spilled over the side of the bed, and joined the first one, floating close to the floor, feeling around for something in the night. A bright white aura formed around James once more as he knelt quietly and tenderly glided his hand along Agnes’s back. She gave a contented sigh, and whispered to him, “Don’t stop.”

  “I won’t.”

  After a few more minutes, a third black shape rose from her back, and slid down the side of the bed and onto the floor, which was now a black morass, swirling this way and that, seeking, and not finding. James’s glowing form repelled them, and they circled him like sharks around a diving cage. Agnes took a deep breath and exhaled with a blend of pleasure and relief. She opened her eyes and rolled onto her back. James raised his hand as she repositioned herself. She looked around and bit her lip nervously. “James?”

  “Yes, Agnes?”

  Her eyes widened in fear. She sat upright, not seeing the source of her immense feelings of gratitude and joy. “James, it’s okay. You don’t have to hide from me. Show yourself.”

  James put his hand to her shoulder, or tried to, as it passed through her. “I’m here, Agnes. I didn’t leave you.”

  Agnes swung her legs over the side of the bed and placed her bare feet on the floor. She put her hands to her knees, and squeezed her eyes shut. James. Her ethereal form rose from her physical body, and she saw a young man kneeling beside her. He wore modest robes and plain sandals. She put her hand to his cheek and fell to her knees. She looked at his spectral face, and he looked longingly at her own, and they touched their foreheads together.

  “Thank you, James.”

  “Anything. Anything for you.”

  “Stay here with me.”

  “I will.”

  They wrapped their arms around each other and held each other tightly as black forms circled them in the darkness.

  CHAPTER 21: SIGNS

  Gracie drove Annabella home after dinner. Once the initial awkwardness of dinner was overcome—and Gracie vowed to look up the site that claimed that Babette’s was “affordable” and rip it a new one—they settled in and had a marvelous evening together. Annabella was engaging and interesting, and to Gracie’s amazement, genuinely interested in her. She had difficulty accepting that somebody like Annabella would cross the street to spend any amount of time with her, but there she was, sparkling and effervescent. Gracie did her best to reach for Annabella’s plane of existence, and only managed to feel miserable at how spectacularly she was failing. She felt this was going to be a one-and-done date, no question. At least she’d have the memory of this evening to cling to for years to come.