Eternity

by Teresa Federici

  This again brought my thoughts back to Gareth. Certainly he affected me like no other before. I would have to be very careful to keep my distance, but that wouldn’t be hard. I had worked there six months now, and that was the first time I had ever seen him, so it would probably be another six months before I saw him again. The extreme reaction I had was very uncharacteristic for me, but I could easily tell that I affected him too.

  Maybe we’d known each other in another life. I made a dismissive huffing noise as I turned into my driveway and raised the garage door. It seemed as though my childhood beliefs were trying to take up permanent residence in my brain. Despite my training, I liked to think that I had an open mind to all possibilities, but I had spent so many years now as a skeptic, and so little time as a believer that it was hard to embrace theories that my mother had insisted were only the products of a hyper imagination.

  After I entered the house and came into the living room, the feeling of being watched again came over me. I stopped in mid-movement and looked out my living room window, and saw, with surprising clarity a man standing under the street light across from my house. I was able to watch him for a moment before he disappeared, but it wasn’t more than thirty seconds, probably less. As before in the parking lot, as soon as he knew I was watching he was gone. I knew I hadn’t blinked, I knew what I saw, but he was just no longer there.

  Now a little fissure of fear ran down my spine, turning my blood to ice. I jerked my curtains closed, and then went throughout the house, lowering blinds and closing curtains. Every window was checked to be sure it was locked, and all three doors were bolted, the first time I had done that since I moved in. The town I lived in, which was located a half-hour north of Manchester, was small and safe, but tonight I didn’t feel safe. Maybe because it was late, maybe it was a different person out there, but now I experienced the fear that should have enveloped me at work in the parking lot.

  I went into my bedroom and hurriedly changed into my pajamas, which consisted of a tank top and flannel bottoms. My movements were jerky, my body giving way to the fear that my mind, refusing to let my emotions loose. I left my clothes where they fell, instead of putting them away as I normally would. I had to get back into the light in the living room.

  I walked back into the living room and went straight through into the kitchen, where I grabbed a knife out of the butcher block. I had no idea what I would do with it, but it had a comforting presence, the smooth black grip fitting closely in my hand. I went back to the living room and curled up on the couch, my eyes darting around, probing in the shadows of the room.

  I reached out and grabbed the remote and turned on the television. Maybe there was something on the news about an escaped convict or something. The five-thirty news lit the screen, and I listened intently to it and to the various noises around my house. Nothing unusual with either. It was supposed to snow more tomorrow, and no one had won the lottery. My house made its usual noises. I relaxed a little and set the knife on the cocktail table and sat back, flipping channels.

  It was as though my mind was slowly flipping open and releasing paranoia, leaving me unhinged. I led a pretty sedate life and nothing unusual ever happened to me. Now, three times in one day I had extraordinary experiences; meeting Gareth-Dr. Macgregor, the parking lot, and now my own street. What was going on? Was I having a breakdown?

  As the minutes ticked by, and I didn’t hear the tinkling of glass as someone broke into my house; I started to relax, slowly but surely. I flopped back fully on the couch, pulling a throw over my legs and stretching out. There was nothing on T.V. so I snagged a book out of a pile and tried to lose myself in it.

  I must’ve fallen asleep in the living room, because I remember dreaming that Gareth came to me in the darkest part of the night, and sat next to where I was curled up on the couch. His eyes were an ice blue that would be almost white in daylight. They seemed to glow with an inner fire, but there was comfort in his gaze. I didn’t feel frightened at all. I sat up and looked at him. With a trembling hand, he reached out to tuck some hair that had fallen across my eyes behind my ear, and then he let his fingertips drift down my cheek and along my jaw line. I shivered at his touch, partly due to his hand being so cold, but mostly because it sent a contradictory fire coursing through my veins.

  “Do you fear me?” He asked, the slight Scottish brogue warming his words.

  “No, I have no fear of you, just curiosity. Should I fear you?” I lied. I had no fear that he would hurt me physically, knew absolutely that he would never intentionally harm my body, but he could destroy me emotionally.

  He chuckled, a soft rumbling in his chest.

  “If only you knew. You remind me of someone….” his words drifted off as he scrutinized my features, and I was entranced by his gaze, held in those icy depths as his fingertips traced wherever his eyes roamed.

  My eyes closed as they traced my collarbone, then over my shoulders and down my arm, sending curls of fire and ice wherever they trailed, eyes and fingers alike.

  “Look at me.” He said it softly, but the command was unmistakable. I opened my eyes and looked at him, but wrapped my bare arms around my knees, like a little child.

  “I would never harm you. I just had to see you one more time, so please forgive the intrusion. I won’t bother you again.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead, his lips smooth but cold. The urge to grab him and not let go was strong, and frightened me in its intensity. Even in a dream, he could make me lose all my walls and barriers that I had erected carefully over the years, and bring them crashing down around my feet.

  “What I wouldn’t give to love you tonight, and have you know me.” His lips blazed a trail where his fingertips had previously ventured and then I did lose control, throwing my arms around his neck and pressing my lips to his.

  At first he held back, and I could feel the restraint in him, the power he was exerting to stop himself from returning my kiss. I knew the moment he gave in, his restraint forgotten as his arms came around me like an iron band. His mouth took everything that I had to give and more, and it was heaven. Somehow his cold lips left trails of fire in their wake, and our tongues mated in mimicry of an age-old dance our bodies longed to recreate.

  His hands were in my hair, pulling my head back, and I could feel his lips on my neck. The sensations that he aroused in me were unlike anything I could ever have imagined in my life. He had stoked an inferno that was raging in me, and my body yearned for more, while my head kept telling me that maybe this wasn’t a dream after all, it was too real.

  Before I knew what was happening, he pushed me away and was across the room, standing by the French doors that led to my backyard. One second he was there, the next not there. I could see he was distressed, and it only amplified my puzzled thoughts. How did he get over there so fast? Why was he so upset? There could be no way this was real. It had to be a dream.

  “I won’t be back. And you won’t remember this in the morning.”

  Then he was gone.

  He was wrong. I remembered all of it.

  Chapter Two

  Conscious returned with the slowness of molasses as I woke and my senses came alive. First I became aware of the sunlight casting red patterns on my closed eyelids, then the sensation that I could still feel the press of his mouth against my lips, and the taste of him on my tongue.

  I sat up quickly, my eyes flying open, and I touched my fingertips to my lips, as if I could keep the feeling there. I closed my eyes again, wanting to recapture the images of the night. Had it only been a dream? If it had, it was the most vivid one I’d ever had. In the muted sunlight coming through drawn curtains and blinds though, it was easy to relegate it to the dream world.

  This time, I slowly opened my eyes, and looked around the room, searching for some trace that he was actually here in the night and not an amazing figment of my imagination or subconscious, but there was nothing but the sensations flowing through my body.

  His last words p
uzzled me though. They were said in such a way as to imply a command, as though he was giving me a hypnotic suggestion, but I had total recall. From the moment he sat down next to me to the moment he disappeared. People don’t just disappear, so it had to be a dream. I thought about those odd instances yesterday, and realized that at least twice I had seen something disappear right before my eyes, all in one day, so why not something in a dream. If it had actually been a dream.

  I sighed and pushed a hand through my mussed hair, knowing that the unruly mess would be a bitch to get through this morning. If I didn’t brush it before I went to sleep, the long, brown strands become a bird’s nest of tangles the next day.

  As I ran my hands through it to try to get it tamed before my shower, another memory of the “dream” came back, that of Gareth grabbing a hank of my hair and pulling my head back and baring my throat, the way his cold lips had set fire to my sensitive skin. I shivered, remembering the sensations, so real and intoxicating. Then I remembered the glow of those otherworldly eyes, and knew it for a dream. No one had eyes like that, unless you were an Albino, and Gareth was definitely not an Albino.

  These were thoughts for another day. It finally intruded into my poor beleaguered brain that it was way too bright in my living room. I glanced at the clock above my television and saw that it was 8:00 a.m. Shit! I had to be at work by nine, and by the time I showered and got dressed, it would be close to that and I had a half hour drive ahead of me.

  I rushed through my shower, fighting with my hair to get conditioner to penetrate it, almost took a layer of skin off trying to shave my legs, and then gave up. I quickly rinsed off and towel dried my hair, and dashed on a light touch of makeup. I ran into my closet and grabbed a pair of black slacks and a basic white button down shirt with long sleeves and threw a colorful wrap on to give a little color to the day, then I was grabbing a banana and running out the door. Looking at the time, I saw it was eight thirty-five, so I wasn’t doing that bad on time. The weather wasn’t horrible, just a slight dusting of snow; the going wouldn’t be too hazardous. I managed to keep more thoughts of Gareth at bay so I could concentrate on driving, but he was never too far from my mind.

  I had mentioned earlier that he had given me purpose in this life, and he did. I was not a depressed person, and I found pleasure in the usual things, like music and movies, a good book and a bottle of wine, but I had…well, I never thought that I was built for true happiness. I was twenty-seven, never been in love, by choice, had never been away from New Hampshire, got melancholy when someone was rude, and had a bad case of road rage, but nothing homicidal. I didn’t have life, at least not a substantial one.

  Gareth’s effect on me was profound, and although I kept the complicated thoughts at bay, the one that kept coming back to me as I sped down Route 13 was that I hoped like hell that he would come back to the lab today.

  I pulled into the parking lot, and went through the motions of preparing for work; parked the Jeep, flashed my security badge, dashed up to the second floor, got another cup of coffee, and fired up my computer.

  I had a lot of work to do, and the project that we were working on had potentially huge ramifications. I could bore anyone to tears with the trivialities of what I do, but I’m essentially low man on the totem pole, and mostly what I did was research and grunt work. I was learning though, more than what my very expensive college education could ever teach me, and although I would have loved to make a discovery that would blow everyone’s socks off, I highly doubted that I would be the one to do it. I didn’t have the burning ambition to publish, or to put myself out there in any way. I just wanted to work, and I was good at what I did.

  I noticed that I was still the subject of scrutiny among the women in the lab, and uncomfortably aware that I was considered a minor celebrity due to Gareth’s visit.

  Angela gleefully informed me again that he had never actually been in the lab to introduce himself to any one of them, and that he had watched me the entire time that he was here, which to my recollection had only been about five minutes.

  “No, no, he was standing by the observation windows, watching you for what seemed like an eternity.” She argued with me when I mentioned that he had been there a short time. I glanced toward the windows in question, which faced me side-on, so that anyone looking through them would have seen me in profile.

  Grace agreed with her. “Yes you’re right, Angela, he was. I remember looking up and seeing him there. He hadn’t been in for six months or more, and when he’s around, every female in a hundred yard radius knows it. He’s just so,” she seemed to take a breath, “stunning.” Grace let the word come out as a sigh, her eyes in a faraway place that Gareth probably figured prominently in. It made me squirm a little to know that she was daydreaming about my new purpose in life, and then I remembered that I was trying to be indifferent about him.

  “Well, I don’t know what brought him in here to meet me, but we probably won’t see him for another six months.” God I hoped I was wrong. “So why don’t we try to refocus on our work and accomplish something.” It was a statement, not a question. I had to be a little bossy or they would take advantage of me and make me do menial lab chores, like cleaning. That wasn’t happening.

  They dispersed and I was able to concentrate in a half-assed way, but eventually I managed the impossible and pushed him back to the farthest reaches of my mind.

  I worked through lunch, not even feeling hungry, documenting results and notating research. There was a slight commotion half way through the day, but by the time I looked up to see what it was, nothing was there, although everyone was staring at me again. It didn’t seem like something I had to concern myself with, so I ignored them and went back to work.

  My stomach growling brought my head out of my research around two o’clock, the faint pangs that I had been feeling growing to insistent demands. Getting up from my workstation to stretch my legs and go for a walk in the cool air before hunkering down with the rest of my research seemed like a good idea, so I grabbed a granola bar from the basket in the break room and went outside into the sun.

  It was colder outside than I had figured, so with a healthy dose of self-consternation I cursed, wishing fervently that I had my heavy coat. Wishing also for a cigarette to take my mind off the cold seeping into my skin, I crossed my arms, chafing at them to bring warmth to them. My mind drifting, it was a moment before I realized I had heard someone say my name.

  “Anna.”

  It was plain as day, but no one was there. I spun around in a circle, but nothing was out of place, no foliage moved as though someone had brushed by. I had heard it though. I know I had.

  I walked quickly back to the front of the building, to where it faced the parking lot, and was in time to see a black Range Rover pulling out of the parking lot onto Route 13. I couldn’t see anything of the driver, because the windows were a really dark tint, but I had a sneaking suspicion in the forefront of my mind. I walked quickly back into the lobby, making my way to the guard desk and with my best smile in place, caught Gerry, the day guard, just coming back to his desk.

  He was a tall, beefy man with a florid complexion that I barely ever talked to except in greeting, but I had to turn on some charm that didn’t seem false.

  “Hi, Gerry, how are you?” I asked him, trying for a sincere voice. It sounded sincerely false. He apparently didn’t pick up on it, though.

  “Hi Dr. Greer, I’m fine. What can I do for you?” he asked, taking a seat behind the huge welcome desk and its bank of monitors.

  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to ask flat out if Gareth had just come through the lobby, although I didn’t know why I hesitated. It was an honest enough question, but for some reason I hesitated to ask it. I had to come up with something quick though because he was looking at me expectantly. I blurted out the first thing I could think of.

  “I hit the door of the car next to me, and left a lovely red scratch in it. Could you tell me who drives the black Range Rover with real
ly dark tinted windows?”

  Gerry chuckled thickly, shaking his head.

  “You picked the wrong vehicle to hit Dr. Greer. That’s Gareth Macgregor’s Rover, but he just left. Did you hit it this morning?”

  Just as I suspected.

  “Yes, I did. I didn’t realize he had just left. I’ll explain it to him later. Thanks.”

  I walked away, giving him a parting smile. I knew Gareth had been the one to call my name-knew it the minute I heard his voice-so why would he say my name and then leave? Furthermore, how did he get to his vehicle that fast?

  Now I was starting to feel the fear again, creeping through me like a cold mist. Spectacular looks aside, I went six months working for this man before I ever saw him, and now in less than 24 hours I had met him, saw him in the parking lot and outside my house, and now this. Either my overactive imagination had come back with a vengeance, or he was stalking me. Not to mention the dream from last night that part of me, the part that used to be much more in tune to things like this, insisted was real.

  Why would he focus on me? Before yesterday, we had never even met. I thought about the look of recognition in his eyes, unusual eyes at that, and wondered if he wasn’t fixating on me because I looked like someone he knew and possibly loved.

  Whatever the case, my hackles were up, giving me an uneasy feeling.

  I caught the next elevator back up to the lab, for once wishing that I had someone to talk to, a person that would listen as I poured out my thoughts and concerns.