The Spaces Between Us

by Ethan Johnson

  His eyes widened.

  Mine… how?

  She smiled deviously, and rocked back and forth slowly, letting him feel every sensation fully and completely.

  Tobias gives us his blessings. He is grateful to you for rescuing poor Inanna and wishes for you to be happy.

  She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes. A purring sound hummed in her throat.

  Inanna. Look at me.

  She moaned, rolled her head back sensually, and stared directly into his eyes.

  I’m very happy.

  Inanna closed her eyes and smiled, breathing deeply. Moments later, he was enjoying his reward, there on the floor of someplace he could not fully comprehend.

  CHAPTER 40: SUMMONS

  Agnes had just a quick moment to grab her knit bag and sling it over her shoulder. She went down the stairs quickly, in stark contrast to her quieter, more deliberative movements. She put on her coat and opened the front door. A clean-cut gentleman in a long black coat, black suit, white shirt, and black tie stood on the front stoop.

  “Agnes Morris?”

  Agnes nodded.

  “I’m here to pick you up. Were you expecting me?”

  Agnes paused, eyed him warily, then nodded again.

  The gentleman escorted her to a well-polished black town car. He opened the back door and she sat down. Once her legs were inside of the car, the gentleman shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side of the car. In a moment or two he had backed out of the driveway and they were on their way to her mentor, Henry Steele.

  Agnes sat quietly and stared out the window. The driver did not speak other than to radio his dispatcher that he had one passenger in transit. She assumed that meant to the Manor. She noticed that the driver was glancing up at his rear-view mirror quite a bit. She didn’t drive but knew on some instinctive level that this amount of rear-view scrutiny wasn’t common, or normal. She closed her eyes to get a better assessment of the situation.

  She remained seated in the car, but a part of her consciousness trailed behind the vehicle, then up and over it. Was someone following them? The traffic seemed normal. Well-spaced, mundane, and nobody seeming to pay close attention to the town car. She decided to do a little advance scouting. She sent her consciousness ahead and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary there, either. She reached the Manor, and other than a black luxury sedan that she hadn’t seen before, everything seemed fine. She pulled her wayward consciousness back into her and became whole again. She opened her eyes in time to meet his in the rear-view mirror. He glanced away quickly.

  Agnes tried a different approach. She closed her eyes again and slowed her breathing.

  Bess?

  She waited for her to reply. Nothing.

  Bess, are you out there? It’s me, Agnes.

  She waited, frowning a bit. Something was wrong. Bess didn’t usually take this long to reply. Even if she were asleep or otherwise indisposed, Agnes would have received some sort of response.

  The town car reached a stoplight and slowed to a halt. Agnes considered making a break for it. They had reached the rural stretch of the route. Buildings were fewer and farther between, and the intersection was a pairing of two county roads that led to… not much. If Agnes did try to escape from the town car, where would she go?

  This was a long shot, but she felt her options fall away rapidly.

  Image.

  Normally, her connection with Image was prearranged, and very much a teacher-student relationship. Image taught Agnes about what she called the “unseen reality” but by and large it was dryly theoretical and abstract, and spread out over a span of years. But the material was necessary for Agnes to broaden her understanding of things ancient and lost to modern society. What was once common had become esoteric at best, or more likely, dismissed as pseudoscience. Quackery and other false claims did nothing to restore legitimacy to these lost abilities.

  No answer there, either, but they didn’t have another session scheduled for about two more weeks. Agnes didn’t know what Image did in the meantime. She did, however, feel a tug inside of her that suggested all was not well. She felt the familiar left turn into the Manor’s driveway. Time was up.

  Bess, if you get this message, I think I’m in trouble.

  Bess did not reply. The driver looked up into the rear-view mirror deliberately. “We’re here.”

  Agnes opened her eyes and nodded. She rooted around in her knit bag looking for tip money. The driver waved her off.

  “That’s not necessary, miss, the client paid in full.”

  Agnes nodded. “Is… another car coming to pick me up later?”

  The driver shook his head. “I have no idea, miss. This was just a one-way, is all I know.”

  Agnes nodded and opened the door. “Thank you.”

  “Do you have all of your things?”

  “Yes.”

  Agnes gently closed the door and stepped around the town car and to the front stoop of the Manor. A minute or two later, the door opened. It wasn’t Henry this time.

  A plump woman, with what could best be described as eastern European features and short, black, neatly coiffed hair stood in the doorway. She was dressed in a long gown, and wore several necklaces made of varying metals, such as silver and gold, and her wrists were loaded with metal bangles. She wore heavy makeup and even heavier perfume. She waved Agnes in to the Manor. The bangles clanked and clattered as she did so.

  Agnes did not know the woman well but recognized her as the countess.

  She closed the door, and walked gingerly past Agnes, holding her arms up at right angles, presumably to cut down on the clanking.

  “Agnes, darling! It’s so nice to meet you. Henry has told me so much about you. Come in, let’s get acquainted.”

  Agnes hung back in the foyer. The countess stopped and seemed genuinely surprised that she wasn’t being followed.

  “What is it, my child? Is something the matter?”

  Agnes asked her if Henry would be joining them, in the way that she and Henry normally spoke within the walls of the Manor. The countess frowned and walked back toward Agnes.

  “Oh, come, come, my dear child, there’s nothing to fear from me! I’m sorry I haven’t made more time for you and your fellow initiate… what is her name again? Beth?”

  Bess.

  “Henry speaks so very highly of you and Beth. But especially you, Agnes! You have such a gift. Come, come, we have much to talk about.”

  Agnes hesitantly followed along and kept an eye out for… something. Everything seemed normal as far as the Manor was concerned. Books about the occult filled every bookcase, and various objects were placed throughout with varying degrees of spiritual or religious significance. The countess swayed along, shaking her wrists every so often to adjust her bangles. She led Agnes to a room that she had never seen before. The solid wood door swung open with a grunt from her hostess, revealing what Agnes took to be the countess’s study.

  It was like Henry’s, except his was more masculine, favoring wood furniture and leather accents. Hers featured oil lamps on the walls and on a round table in one corner, with flared glass shades and brass keys to that controlled the dampers. Lacy fabrics abounded in the room. Incense burned on a glass shelf. Agnes reasoned that it was more decorative than functional. The countess sat down in a plush chair and gestured amid clanks and clatters for Agnes to join her. Agnes sat on an armless chair with a looping metal back.

  The countess looked at her and sighed. “Take your coat off and stay a while.”

  Agnes nodded and removed her coat as instructed. She laid it across her lap.

  “Oh, dear. I’m being a terrible hostess. Let’s get you settled.” She leaned to one side and cupped her hand against her mouth. “Stanley, I need you.”

  A distinguished looking but frail elderly gentleman with white hair and a brown three-piece suit entered the room and gave a curt bow. “Yes, my lady.”

  “Stanley, be a dear and put Agnes’s coat away. An
d bring us something to drink. How about… tea?”

  Agnes nodded. Maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

  “Splendid! Tea it shall be. Stanley, make us a pot of blackberry tea, infused with cardamom. Good for opening the chakras. Oh, and something yummy. Do we have something sweet?”

  “I shall do my best, my lady,” he said, and took Agnes’s coat. He walked slowly out of the room.

  “Wonderful, wonderful. What a pleasant man. Always so helpful. I can’t wait to see what he brings us.”

  Agnes smiled and nodded. The countess leaned forward and patted her knee.

  “Now then, my child, as I said, Henry has told me so much about you. But I’d love to hear more. How are your lessons going? Is Henry teaching you everything he knows?”

  My lessons are going well, ma’am. Henry is a very good mentor.

  The countess looked concerned. She leaned in again and patted her knee once more. “Dear heart, you can tell me. Henry and I go way back. Is there something you wish to tell me but are afraid of what I might think?” She leaned back and laughed. “Nonsense! Go ahead, tell me everything.”

  Agnes frowned.

  But, I did tell you. I told you that my lessons were going well, and Henry was a good mentor.

  The countess looked heartbroken. “Oh, dear, sweet child, what’s the matter? Are you afraid to tell me something? Did Henry… harm you in some way? I vaguely recall some incident in Sumatra many years ago, but those were just rumors, and Henry has been nothing but upstanding ever since.”

  Stanley shuffled into the room with a metal tray with large handles. A teapot and two teacups were evident, with a covered dish and a three-tiered tower stacked with some sort of pastries rounding out the load. He placed the tray down on a round fabric-covered table beside the women and offered to pour each of them a cup of tea. Agnes accepted a cup without any additives.

  The countess watched earnestly as Stanley prepared her cup. He spooned in a bit of sugar, then a little more, then glanced over at the countess to see her raising a reproachful eyebrow, and he dropped the remainder into the cup, following by two more heaping spoonfuls. He stirred the cup with a thin metal spoon and set it down. The countess took the cup from him eagerly and blew on it for a moment or two, then took a sip. She let out a satisfied sigh. “Perfect, Stanley. Well done.”

  “Very good, my lady.”

  The countess motioned to Agnes. “My dear, do you require anything in your tea? Sugar? Honey? Agave?”

  Agnes shook her head and raised her cup in a thankful gesture. She sipped the tea and tried not to grimace.

  “My heavens, how can you drink that?”

  Agnes smiled, and decided to confirm a theory.

  How can you drink that?

  The countess shivered a bit with an air of satisfaction. “Marvelous, Stanley. Well done, well done. I will call you when I need you.”

  “As you wish, my lady.” Stanley gave a curt bow and left the room quietly.

  CHAPTER 41: HOME

  Marc and Inanna laid on the fur rug, enjoying the afterglow of their latest sexual escapades. He wasn’t used to someone being quite so uninhibited, especially around family members. Not that Tobias stuck around to watch, which he appreciated. He considered covering up with his robe, but that would involve dislodging Inanna, whose ear was pressed against his chest, eyes closed, smiling wide.

  He realized that he was naked in other ways. He took a strange route to the present moment, leaving his apartment but not in the usual manner. In fact, he didn’t have anything he would normally be carrying whenever he went out: no cell phone, no keys, no wallet.

  Panic began to settle in. Where was he? Where was his apartment? Was he in Chicago? Was he in the USA? Was he even in the correct year? He smacked his forehead with his free hand. Never mind getting home, how was he going to get in the building without his keys? And was his apartment locked? What then? His stomach flipped as he ran through the list of unanswered questions.

  Inanna sighed and made a purring sound again.

  Inanna. He had followed her voice and ended up outside the walls of Nineveh. Maybe there was some magical path back to his apartment. Maybe she knew how to get there.

  He decided to live in the moment before dealing with the mess that confronted him beyond the walls of his current dwelling. He stroked Inanna’s bare back and stared up at the ceiling.

  Shortly thereafter, Tobias returned from his retreat. He stood at a respectful distance and gave Marc a polite nod. Marc lifted his free hand and waved.

  “I will leave you now. I must go to the temple.” The two burly guards filed into the room, dressed in black suits. They flanked Tobias and said nothing.

  Marc squinted. “What temple?”

  Tobias fidgeted with his shirt sleeve. “My servants will tend to you.”

  Marc felt a jolt of panic. Tend to him… how?

  Inanna moaned and lifted her head from Marc’s chest. She said something to her brother in their native tongue, and he responded in kind. They seemed to be seeing each other off with customary farewells. Marc had to interrupt.

  “Wait… I need to get home to my apartment. I don’t have any of my stuff, and I think I left my front door unlocked.”

  Tobias cocked his head. “You are home. Your home is with us.”

  “Whoa! Things are moving a little too fast in the relationship department. I kind of have my own place, and I quit my job, but I can land something else, and see how things go from there.”

  Inanna and Tobias exchanged words.

  “Inanna has asked me if there is work for you. I have agreed. You will assist me, in time.”

  Marc felt himself turn clammy. This was not at all what he signed up for, insofar as he signed up for any of this. Not that he was complaining about all the sex. “But… my family.”

  Inanna kissed his cheek. We are your family now.

  Tobias gave another curt nod, and left his home, whatever it was. The grand door clicked shut and Marc was altogether relieved that his guards had left as well, and terrified about being isolated in this mysterious place with a woman he knew precious little about.

  He needed answers. He pried himself loose from Inanna and stood. He looked around the room, and felt it start to spin. He staggered toward the large windows that were obscured by sheer curtains, hung from what appeared to be solid gold hardware. He pulled the curtain aside and yanked open the sliding glass door that led to a spacious balcony, inlaid with wood. He looked out at what should have been Lake Michigan.

  He saw sand, and boats, and boulders along the shore, and several glass and steel buildings common to large cities. He also saw palm trees. It felt like it was 90 degrees outside. And in the distance, he spied land.

  This wasn’t Chicago.

  Based on the ambient sounds he was hearing, he wasn’t entirely sure that he was still in America. If so, at best he was someplace coastal, and unseasonably hot. Inanna called to him from inside. She used some term of endearment that he couldn’t quite make out.

  He shuffled back into Tobias’s home, and looked at the flat screen television mounted to the wall to his right. At least he hadn’t traveled too far from the present day. He felt along the edges of the television and pressed the power button. Inanna crawled along the floor and sat at his feet, wrapping her arms around his leg.

  A man wearing a red-and-white checkered headscarf was reading a news report. He was speaking a language different than the one that Tobias and Inanna spoke, but still guttural, to his ears. As text appeared on the screen, he thought it looked like Arabic. His stomach bottomed out when a graphic appeared in the lower right-hand corner of the screen.

  Dubai: 30C / 86F

  CHAPTER 42: SECRETS OF THE MANOR

  The countess sipped her tea and snacked on her pastries, encouraging Agnes to join in. “You eat like a bird, you poor dear. Have an eclair and put some meat on those bones.”

  Agnes gave a sad smile and shook her head. She choked down another sip o
f her awful tea, trying her hardest to keep from showing visible disgust. The countess polished off a flaky pastry, then drained the last of her tea. She gave a satisfied sigh and clasped her hands together on her ample lap.

  “Now, my child, let’s get better acquainted. How long have you been an initiate of the Order?”

  Agnes wondered why the countess wouldn’t have already known that. Then again, maybe she was a bad conversation starter.

  About two years, ma’am.

  The countess gave a disapproving look. “Oh, Agnes, my dear, you must be too weak! Are you sure I can’t get you something?”

  She shook her head, and instead reached into her knit bag and pulled out her spiral notebook and a pen. She hated the idea of writing in her notebook reserved exclusively for her sessions with Image, which entailed automatic writing: She would connect to Image on her wavelength, and she would transcribe their conversation. She would then have an accessible record to look back on and learn from at her own pace. She opted to write on the back of the notebook.

  Initiates are forbidden to speak out loud in the Manor. Those who speak do not Know.

  The countess peered at what Agnes was writing and began to giggle. She covered her mouth with one hand. “Oh, that’s Henry showing off.” She leaned forward a bit. “That’s his parlor trick. He can communicate with people telepathically, but only if they’re in the same room, and even then, I’m not entirely convinced that he’s not just a lucky guesser half the time. Speak! Speak! I may be many things, but I’m no Henry Steele.”

  Agnes’s chin drooped. She addressed her teacup. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Much better. So, as you were saying? How long has it been?”

  “Two years.”

  The countess’s mouth rounded into an O. “Two years? Really? My heavens, I had no idea. Ah well, how time flies when you’re seeking enlightenment!” She giggled.

  “I suppose it does.”

  The countess looked up suddenly and reached up. She clapped her hands three times in staccato bursts. She waited a moment, then clasped her hands on her lap again. She smiled warmly at Agnes. “I must apologize. There was a nasty buildup of qi and it was bringing down my vibrations. I didn’t mean to startle you.”