Naomi and I were obviously in a relationship, the attraction I felt for her was solid and real and I knew I had to find a way of letting her know she hadn’t lost me. As stupid as it might sound, I worried that I might be on life support and that it might be turned off if nobody thought I could be saved. I had needed to write those words on the screen. I needed to be noticed. I just thanked God that I was able to physically manipulate objects now, my energy or spirit had been weak at first. I thought back to that night when my body was just a swirling mist of coloured smoke, the difference from then to now was quiet significant, frightening even. What if I was dying and this was why my ethereal essence was stronger than it had been before? I was spending more time in this form than before too, those first experiences had last only minutes, now I seemed to be here for hours at a time. It could only mean that my physical form was slowly slipping away. I had to fight back, I wouldn’t give up, especially on Naomi. She needed me. Her hands dropped from her mouth and she looked around the room in awe. Her initial fear seemingly gone.
“Dad? Is that you?”
Dad? She thought it was her father! Oh, this was not good. I would have to try and type something else, she needed to know it was me not her father. I did the same thing as before and concentrated all my efforts on moving the keys with my mind not my actual fingers. It looked like I was using my fingers but the force came from within me.
“Eh! Non funziona!” It wasn’t working! This couldn’t be happening now. Frustration flooded me, in desperation I tried again but nothing happened. I noticed my hands looked a little transparent once more. I must have used up too much of my energy with the TV and the music.
“Porcco Dio!” Now was not the time to do a disappearing act. I felt utterly helpless.
“Dad, are you here? Please do something else if this is you? ...I miss you.” Her voice broke a touch and I felt so sad for her, on reflection maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to let her think it was her father trying to communicate. It might offer her some emotional comfort perhaps. I would have to wait until I had recovered before attempting anything else. She waited for a response for quite a few minutes before giving up and sitting rather despondently back on the sofa. I sat beside her while she stared blankly into the room. A lonely tear graced her cheek and she just let it fall. I tried to wipe it away but I couldn’t. I tried to put my hand on hers to hold it. I had no idea if she could feel me or not, I hoped that she could. I would spend my time beside her, offering what little comfort I could and then hopefully, once I was able, I’d leave more messages for her.
At least an hour passed as we just sat together, doing nothing but just being. Eventually she moved from the sofa and began pottering around her flat, I followed when she disappeared from my line of sight, eager to stay close. She ventured to the kitchen and cooked herself some lunch, a simple pasta with a side salad. As she worked she began to hum, I recognised the tune from the film she had been watching earlier ‘That’s Amore’. Glad to see her happy mood I hummed along with her wishing I could cook with her. I was a good cook, I knew that. My mother had taught me although I couldn’t exactly remember my mother right now. It felt like when I had tried to picture my father, just a hazy, vague silhouette. I tried not to let it bother me, I was sure it would all come back to me once I woke up. If I woke up.
After lunch we settled back down on the sofa, her with her laptop perched on her knees, me sitting to the left of her. I could feel the heat of her body next to mine, I wished again that she could sense my presence.
“Naomi, il mio bel fiore. Sono qui con te.” Don’t give up on me. I made a promise to myself and to her, right there and then, that I would fight with everything I had in me to find my way back to her. I brushed my hand against her cheek, barely a whisper of a touch but she shivered and rubbed her cheek against her shoulder. That small indication that she had felt me touch her gave me such encouragement. Excitement filled my veins, if I could make her feel me maybe I could eventually make her hear me or see me?
“Bella donna, voglio conoscerti di nuovo. I want to remember us.” The thought of her and I together made me yearn to touch her again, to know her again. I desperately wanted to remember the feel of her lips on mine and the way her skin felt under my hands. I imagined we must have had some wild nights, her body was perfectly made for pleasure. Her petite but well-proportioned frame emphasised every curve. She had a body Sophia Loren would be envious of. I liked a woman with curves, flesh that I could grip onto in the throws of passion and wrap my arms around at night. My crotch twitched as the desire to possess her overwhelmed me. Well this was an interesting development, an erection during an out of body episode? That was quiet an unexpected perk and one I was more than happy to explore!
Naomi shivered and moaned, her hand went to her neck and her head went back, eyes closed. Was she sensing my desire? A wicked thought crossed my mind, maybe I could send a little good feeling her way and help guide her thoughts towards me. I had an idea that if I could keep her mind on me I might be able to contact her more easily…and I got a kick out of turning her on, it felt like something I was supposed to do. Grinning, I edged a little closer so that my lips were centimetres from her ear and then let out a slow, gentle breath. She inhaled quickly and let her hand slide slowly down over her chest exposing her neck. I concentrated as hard as I could and poured my energy into running my tongue over her exposed skin. Her breasts heaved and she inhaled hard through her teeth. Oh yes! She could definitely feel me. I had a throbbing hard on now, God I wanted her with every ounce of my being. It was unfortunate that having a hard on seemed to drain all the energy out of me. I still hadn’t recovered enough from my previous attempts at communication to be able to carry on but it was encouraging to know that I could affect her physically. I hoped this meant that I could convince her that it was her lover who ‘haunted’ her and not her father. My life might depend on the success of my efforts.
Naomi put her computer on the coffee table and got up, walking towards her bedroom she began to strip off, removing her top as she walked. Beyond thrilled, I followed her. This was my woman but I couldn’t remember what she looked like naked. A part of me felt a little guilty at invading her privacy but the voyeur in me couldn’t quite resist. My conscience told me to stay back, I should not be looking when she didn’t know I was here but my feet had a mind of their own and followed.
While I wrestled with my morals, Naomi threw her shirt on the bed and slipped out of her bottoms leaving her in just her underwear. My heart was beating fast with the anticipation of seeing her fully naked but she turned and went to the bathroom instead. I followed again, my erection leading the way. In the bathroom, she leaned over the bath and turned on the shower and then reached around to unclasp her bra. Oh dear God, stop looking you pervert! My mind screamed at me to turn away but my eyes were totally captivated. I held my breath as her breasts bounced free, her pink nipples peaked as the cool air touched their nakedness.
“Tutti gli angeli! You are mine and only mine.” I vowed. I would find my way back to this angel somehow. I would not allow any other man to have the pleasure of gazing upon my woman. Naomi hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her pants and pulled them down, bending over as she stepped out of them, giving me the most glorious view of her peachy behind. I wanted to take her right there and then. The throbbing in my groin hammering to be free of the restrictive clothing. I grasped my cock through the fabric wishing with all my heart that I could join her in the shower. She stepped into the bath and drew the shower curtain around her, blocking my view. Damn. I groaned inwardly but the drawing of the curtain brought with it the realisation that she deserved some privacy. The unexpected sight of her nakedness had temporarily shoved my conscience to the back of my mind and allowed my cock to lead. I already felt like a pervert for spying on her this long but she was my lady and I just wanted to remember her…and fuck her! Said the voice in my head. Oh yes, I wanted to fuck her. Fuck her hard and fast, possess her and make her mine
and then make love to her, gently, softly until she was spent and we fell asleep in each other’s arms.
I stood at the door with my back to the wall as the steam from the shower billowed out of the room through the open doorway. In my mind I imagined the water and soap running over her naked body, I wondered if we had ever made love in the shower? Yes, we must have, it would’ve been impossible not to have done. I wished I could remember. Little sighs and moans reached me through the noise of the cascading water. Was she masturbating? My cock twitched again. Oh dear God this was torture!
“Oh, Joe…Joe, yes! Yes!”
The knowledge that she was pleasuring herself and thinking about me almost drove me over the edge. I banged my head backwards against the wall and swore in frustration. The shower turned off instantly.
“Hello?” She called.
As much as I was happy she had heard me, now wasn’t really the time to try and get her to notice me. Given what she had been in the middle of doing, it didn’t feel appropriate. Neither is playing the voyeur! My conscience piped up. Communicating with her now would probably scare the living daylights out of her and make me look like the biggest creep on earth.
“Who’s there?” She called again.
I heard the shower curtain pull back and the slapping of wet feet on the floor. Her head poked around the door and she looked up the hallway and directly at me. My heart lurched as for a moment I thought she had seen me but then she continued to look through me. She disappeared back into the bathroom and re-emerged wearing a towel. It looked like shower time was over and I felt terrible for interrupting her private moment, although she might not be happy to know it wasn’t as private as she had thought. I shouldn’t have listened. This time, as she went to her bedroom, I didn’t follow. I didn’t wait to hear if she continued her self-pleasuring. Instead I waited in the lounge. Of all the times for the blackness to come and claim me, now would’ve been the most appropriate. I felt like an ass for perving on her, girlfriend or not, she was entitled to her privacy. I made up my mind I wouldn’t do that again. The next time I saw her naked would be when I woke up and I could appreciate her beauty in the flesh, the way I was meant to.
Chapter Eleven
Stranger Things Could Happen
I tried to wrap my head around today’s events. I’ve never believed in ghosts as such, I didn’t believe in God or the concept of heaven but I always looked for signs from the cosmos. My philosophy was that everything in nature was connected. We lived on the same planet, we shared DNA with other living creatures so, it was reasonable to think we also shared an energy- a force that linked everything on earth from rock to elephant to human. Some people might argue that as a case for ‘God’ but it depends on what your version of God is. I liked to think I was somewhere in-between, that I just appreciated the wonders of nature for what they were. I held proclivities for scientific explanations with a side garnish of natural magic. So how could I explain what had happened earlier? Was my dad really trying to contact me? Or was it just another one of my hallucinations? I shook my head.
I thought about all the strange happenings from the volume on the TV, the music, the words typed on my laptop and the loud bang I’d heard in the shower. All of them could be scientifically explained- a faulty TV remote or electrical power surge, I could’ve typed those words myself and just forgotten and the bang could’ve been a window left open or anything like that. I was being paranoid again. Dr Blanchard’s words of wisdom rang in my ears, there was nothing weird going on, and it was just me and my screwy brain looking for anything I could use as an emotional crutch. I had to learn to deal with my grief and stop looking for things that weren’t there. I couldn’t allow myself to listen to the part of me that waved the flag vigorously on the side of the unexplainable. These were signs I wouldn’t allow myself to believe, the pain of losing my dad was still too raw and the concept of him trying to reach me from beyond the grave was just too much. He was gone and I had to deal with it.
I decided on a nap so I threw the wet towel in the laundry pile, pulled on a vest top and loose boy shorts, rough dried my hair and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Eventually I dropped off and when I awoke it was early evening. I’d missed most of the day and had never made it to Mum’s house. I checked my mobile and it had three missed calls from Immy. I texted her to say I had fallen asleep and to send apologies to Mum. As I’d never intended to go anyway, falling asleep meant I hadn’t had to lie and make up an excuse. It felt nice knowing I had the whole evening ahead of me to work on my story. The steamy scene I’d worked on earlier had affected me more than I thought, I’d turned myself on so much that I’d had to go shower. Just a shame I got interrupted at a crucial point. Grinning, I knew I would make sure to finish myself off later and Joe would be helping! That was one little fantasy I would not deny myself.
I turned on the laptop to warm up but decided against turning on the TV or the CD player. I didn’t want them going all weird on me again. I needed to concentrate, no more stupid signs! My mobile pinged to signal I had a text message. It was Immy asking if would go to Mum’s tomorrow. I text back a ‘Yeah, maybe x’ and left it at that, turning the phone to silent.
My notepad on my knee, I began plotting. I wanted to draft out a particular scene in the readers’ cafe that Joe and I owned.
‘Joe wiped all the tables down while I replaced the books on the shelves. I looked over at him as he worked. He had a towel slung over his shoulder, his tight white t-shirt had a few splash stains on it from the kitchen, despite the chef’s apron that was still tied around his waist. He looked gorgeous, humming as he cleaned. Not for the first time, I thought how lucky I was that he was my man. I caught his eye, he winked and flashed me one of his killer grins. I would never tire of his smile, it was so bright it could melt the polar ice caps. I knew I was biased but he had been the catch of the town back in Italy. I thought back to our first meeting, I had fallen for him the minute I looked into those beautiful big brown eyes.
It’d taken some work mind you, he was a notorious playboy and loved the company of women, all women, no matter their dress size. Joe found so much beauty in the female form and had no problem expressing it which, of course, made him utterly irresistible to all members of the opposite sex. On those days when you felt ten pounds heavier just from looking at a cake and your hair put birds’ nests to shame, Joe could make you feel sexier than Marilyn Monroe. In the time I had known him, I don’t think I’d ever seen him ignore any woman that had walked into his bar in Italy or our cafe here at home. Not in a ‘man-whore’ kind of way- he just paid attention. A smile, a nod, a wink of his eye, Joe would always take the time to notice you and that was his secret. The guy could cook, clean, do his own laundry, he worked hard and he played hard, his Mama must’ve been one hell of a woman, I wish I could’ve met her.
His skills in the bedroom were incomparable to anything I’d ever known. Granted, I didn’t have that much to compare it to but Joe rocked my world between the sheets and out of them and I couldn’t imagine ever wanting anyone else. I hoped we’d be married someday because I just couldn’t imagine my life without him in it.’
I began reading through my rough notes when I heard my laptop beep. It was an old machine and took a lifetime to warm up. I’d managed to quickly jot down two paragraphs while waiting for it to be ready. After reading through the last page to remind myself where I had left off, I began typing up the notes. This was usually how I started, hand-writing first and then type it up as I go. After a while the words would start to flow and then I just carried on typing. So far so good. I’d not been working on my story very long and I was totally inspired by Joe. In the past, whenever I had tried to write, I would reach a certain point and then it would all sort of fizzle out and I would give up, making me feel like a failure. This time I was on a roll, I had so much to say about Joe. Perhaps because I already knew him through Laney’s story or because I was totally obsessed with him, in truth it was probably more of the latter.
A part of me still felt apprehensive about stealing Laney’s character but I had to bury that feeling and just write. This was a story that had to be told. I needed to immerse myself in a world where Joe and I existed together, call it therapy or whatever, it was pure self-indulgent catharsis. I didn’t care, something was driving me to write it and I felt so good. For the first time I could remember, I felt like my life had a purpose. I had something to aim for, something of my own.
The page I had typed up was done and I took a moment to recap, I wasn’t quite happy with the wording so I sat chewing my pen and pondered over how I could change it. I had hit a bit of a blank and was just sitting staring at the blinking cursor on my screen when it moved. Letters appeared on my screen and the letters formed words,
“Do not be afraid.”
“What the fuck?” My immediate thought was that someone had remote accessed my computer and my heart rate went up a notch. Except that didn’t explain why they were talking to me. I typed something back,
“Who the hell is this? Get off my computer you wanker! I’m running a trace on you right now!”
“Naomi, please, do not be afraid. I don’t know how much time I have.”
“Is this a joke? How have you got access to my laptop? Who are you?”
“No joke. Need to talk. Urgent”
I stared, aghast and confused at the words appearing on my screen. Sure I was being hacked I went to turn off the machine.
“No! Stop! Please don’t turn it off, mia cara.”
My hand wavered, Italian? Ok, someone was definitely fucking with me. Some psycho must have remote accessed my laptop and had seen what I had been writing about.
“This is not funny. I’m reporting this to the police you weirdo. I have your I.P number.” I lied.
IMMAGINARIO Page 9
