by C. M. Murphy
"Like gravity?" Alma said, her lack of understanding and underlying doubt evident in her confused expression and upward lilt of her voice.
"You see, the body is just a projection of our minds of a shell that holds onto the eternal. People have always believed there was something more to being human. That's why people talk about the 'soul' and the 'holy spirit.' It's hard-wired into us to believe in something undefinable and unknowable—something bigger than ourselves.
"You don't have to believe, but let's say that if it is possible for a portion of us to become aware of the Infinite Truth and realize the separation between one life and the next is just an illusion, you can take it even further. For instance, some may be able to peek through these illusions and see the future, like psychics.
"Others like witches and healers see through the illusion of the material world enough to alter the appearance of sickness or manipulate the world as perceived through the senses. It stands to reason that one could see an even greater truth. That there is no separation from what is infinite but our perception of such. So if we can retain our awareness of past lives, it stands to reason that a person's awareness allows them to perceive life from the perspective of a different person in time and space. You can imagine that the separation from one person to another is also an illusion. "
Leo leaned back in his chair.
The others traded looks.
"I don't get it," Doug said.
"I almost get it," Cassidy said.
"What about you, bella?" Leo said, turning to Alma.
Alma shrugged. "There was something about me getting different perspectives. Like being other people who lived before."
Leo moved his head from side to side. "Yes, you can say that."
An odd thought struck Alma. "It's kind of like I'm time-traveling into the bodies of other people, and my time machine is my thoughts."
Leo laughed. "Not your thoughts exactly, but yes. Your time machine is your awareness of different points of consciousness."
"What's the difference?" Doug asked.
"When you're talking about the Infinite Truth you realize that all of what we call reality is an illusion, and you see the truth about time," Leo said with a smile.
"What's the truth about time?" Doug asked.
"There is no time," Leo said, widening his eyes and waggling his eyebrows.
"Because nothing is real," Alma said.
Leo nodded yes. Alma sighed. "I don't see how 'nothing is real' helps me," she said.
"Time is as real an illusion as the illusion of Alma as a separate entity of the totality of consciousness. So for practical purposes, you can say you're as real as time is."
"Fine," Cassidy said. "So she remembered to call me Felix, because she time-traveled into you. Is that it?"
"More or less," Leo said.
"Nope," Doug said. "Don't get it at all."
"I thought I did, but I kind of don't," Alma confessed.
"Okay, imagine this," Leo said. "You're in the car and you're driving. You can see what's out the window, but you know what you see isn't all that exists in the world. You understand that there's more outside your immediate view. You remember the things you saw when you drove past, but not what's front of you. But just because you're not seeing them in this very moment doesn't mean those things no longer exist. They aren't gone. They're just gone from your point of view. You see, your body is the car, the view is your life, and the movement of the car is time.
"Now imagine that a psychic is someone with a telescope that can see ahead farther on the street. Sometimes the psychic is wrong, because the car took an unexpected turn, but what they saw still exists and always existed, just not in view of that particular car. So, if you're a time-traveler you can even see more streets more times, because you can become any car on the road, and follow where it moves."
"But when I travel in time, I'm turning into other cars? How is that possible?" Alma asked.
"Your body is the car. You are not the car. What makes you, the real you, the infinite you, is the same as what makes the car, the street, everything. You are Infinite. We only perceive things as separate. But what makes you the separate entity known as the person Alma housed in a body, is the car."
"So she saw the world from your perspective," Cassidy said. "She stepped into your car so to speak."
Alma frowned, remembering the alley. "No," Alma said. "I was smoking a cigarette in an alley, marveling at the power and memories I'd acquired from a man I'd just killed. The man I became had acquired some of Leo's memories by killing him."
"You mean like a paramortal that can drain someone's life force, including their power," Doug said without thinking. He'd read legends about this type of paramortal in The Observatory archives that were supposedly the origins of vampire stories, but he didn't think that was true.
"That kind of paramortal exists?" Alma asked.
"I've never heard or seen one in all of my lifetimes," Cassidy said.
"Well, there are legends about immortal beings that drain the life force out of others," Leo said.
"Like what?"
"Vampires," Leo said.
Cassidy rolled her eyes. "We're men of science, not superstition. What's next, unicorns?"
"Some of us have gone missing in the last few lifetimes," Leo said.
"And you think a vampire got them," Cassidy said.
"There are the stories about being erased by another paramortal. An ancient one."
"But those are just stories," Cassidy said, her voice less certain.
"People think tales of reincarnation and time travel as 'just stories,'" Leo said.
"And you think that the loss of your memory is related to one of these life-draining paramortals?" Cassidy asked.
"It could be. We need to find out who and where this vampire is before he—" Leo said, his gaze falling on Alma, and he stopped talking.
"Before he comes after you again?" Cassidy asked.
"Or one of us," Leo said.
"You mean Alma," Doug said. "You mean before whoever this life-force-sucking killer comes after Alma."
Alma's thoughts drifted back into her mind to look for memories from the killer. "Acquires," Alma said. "He calls it acquiring."
Chapter Ten
Doug dropped Alma off at her apartment and made her promise to call if anything odd happened. He said he had to rush home to do his homework for class that night, but the truth was he needed to be on the ready for his boss's call. He didn't want to leave Alma alone.
Alma reassured him that she would be okay. All she wanted to do was go to sleep. They vowed to talk every couple of hours. Doug made her promise to pick up, or he'd run over to her apartment assuming something was wrong.
Alma walked up the stairs and let herself into her apartment. She'd forgotten about this mess she'd left the place in, but she was way too tired to clean. Her brain hurt from all the information about The Infinite Truth. She noticed a note on her refrigerator and crossed the room to look at it. It was from Tita Win: Glad to see you were going through your father's things. I will be out late tonight. Don't wait up. I had some leftover chicken adobo. It's in the Tupperware on the middle shelf. Don't worry about the brain scan. I've got it covered. Try not to think too much.
Alma laughed at her aunt's advice not to think too much. After her meeting with Leo, her brain was fried. Alma opened the refrigerator and ate a bit of the leftovers from her aunt without bothering to grab a fork or even heat it up. Tita Win Win's home cooking never failed to make Alma feel better. She left the other half to eat later, rinsed her fingers in the sink of her kitchenette, and crawled into bed.
She slept without dreaming until the sound of her phone woke her up. Alma opened her eyes and waited for her answering machine to kick in, but the ringing continued. She remembered she'd unplugged her answering machine to plug in the modem. She got out of bed and answered the phone.
"Hello," she said, remembering her promise to Doug and expecting to hear his voice
.
"Hey, how are you?"
Alma's half-asleep brain didn't recognize the voice on the other end, but she didn't want to admit it. "Nothing much. How about you?" she asked, trying to make herself sound awake despite reality.
"I've been trying to reach you all day. I got worried you'd given me a fake number," Haniel said. He'd planned on using it as a joke before he called, but his confidence nosedived when she didn't seem to know it was him. "You didn't forget about our date, did you?"
"Haniel!" Alma said. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry. I fell asleep. I’m not all the way awake."
He laughed, and Alma tried to hide her panic along with the fact that she'd forgotten their date. They made small talk. He tried to sound cool. She tried not to giggle too much.
"I'm supposed to pick you up in an hour, so I better hop in the shower," Haniel said. "Do you live in the Valley?"
Alma said yes, gave him her address, hung up, and panicked. Only an hour to get ready and nothing to wear!
Before she rushed to her closet, she remembered Doug would be calling all night to check up on her and dialed him right away to let him know she'd be safe and not on her own tonight.
"I'll call you when I get home," she promised her best friend. She could tell he'd rather she didn't go on the date. A part of her almost thought he was jealous, but then she reasoned that he was worried about her safety.
Alma dashed down the wooden stairs when she heard his car in the driveway. She'd trashed her already messy place trying to find a decent outfit. With Doug's advice, she'd opted for jeans instead of a skirt so she could skip shaving her legs and have more time to blow dry her hair and do her makeup. Doug said not shaving her legs doubled as protection against sleeping with Haniel on the first date.
Alma hadn't even considered sex, and the idea of it added to her nervousness. She hadn't even told Tita Win she was going out. Thank goodness her aunt would be out late tonight, too. Win was old-fashioned.
Absorbed in her thoughts, Alma didn't notice Haniel standing at the bottom of the stairs. She smacked into his chest with hers so hard, the underwire in her push-up bra stabbed her.
She hissed at the bra jab as she took a quick step back and tripped on the bottom step.
Haniel caught her by the shoulders and kept her from falling. "I'm sorry. I thought you saw me. Are you okay?"
Humiliation heated Alma's face. "That's just how I greet people," she joked. "Are you okay? I body checked you pretty hard."
He laughed. "Let's get you on solid ground." He guided her by the shoulders off the step and onto the foot of dirt at the bottom of the driveway.
Alma allowed herself to be led. Her cheeks flushed with excitement. In the two steps from the stairs, Haniel slid his arm around her shoulder and turned his body so they walked side by side. The move was so natural and smooth, it amazed Alma. Her experience with boys was solely in high school and could be summed up in one word—awkward.
Alma didn't dare look up at him for fear he would see her grinning like an idiot. Instead she leaned closer to his side so he couldn't see her face.
When they reached the car Haniel unlocked the passenger door and opened it for her. Alma stepped away from his side and turned to face him. "Thank you," she said, looking up at him.
"My pleasure," he said, not hiding his smile. "You look great by the way."
She tucked her long dark hair behind her ear in a shy way that Haniel found adorable and ducked into the car. He waited until she was seated before shutting the door for her, and with a bounce in his step, headed around the front of the to driver's side.
Even from his hiding place in the bushes across the street, Doug could see the date had started off well. He'd sworn for a moment that the guy was going to kiss her when he opened the car door for her, but Haniel hadn't. Doug put away his mini-binoculars while Haniel headed for the driver's seat and dashed around the corner to where he'd hidden his car.
It was his job to be a Witness, and even though he'd made Alma promise to call him after her date, he needed to make sure this guy wasn't a creep or worse, a vampire. The timing of when this Haniel character met Alma was too convenient. Or at least that's what he told himself as he followed Haniel's white Ford Mustang, making sure to keep enough distance so Alma wouldn't spot his car.
Haniel headed toward Woodman Avenue not sure where he wanted to take Alma. Neither of them noticed their spy. "I brought the LA Weekly in case you wanted to check out a movie," Haniel said. "Forrest Gump is playing at the Century Eight.”
"My aunt saw it already. She said it was good, but it was long," Alma said.
"Dinner then?" Haniel asked.
Alma nodded yes. Haniel suggested Casa Vega on Ventura. Alma had never been there before, but she loved guacamole so she agreed. As they neared the restaurant, Alma noticed an open meter. "There's a spot."
"They have valet," Haniel said with a smile.
"But the meters are free at night."
Haniel pulled into the spot. Money wasn't an issue for him, but she didn't know that. He'd chosen a modest sports car for their date, but Alma hadn't even noticed the car at all. His father had mentioned that her mother wasn't materialistic either. But that kind of thing wasn't a matter of heredity, was it?
Haniel rushed to open the door for her and help her out of the car. She was younger and was the kind of "nice girl" that he'd never taken interest in before, but since the moment he spoke to her on the telephone, Alma Davis defied his expectations. She was funny, and in those jeans and that low-cut T-shirt, she was darn hot. He opened the door and held his hand out for hers.
Alma got out of the car, impressed at Haniel's good manners. She'd never had a date open the door for her. His arm swept behind her, and his hand touched the small of her back as if he were guiding her across the street. She tried not to let her smile get too big and toothy, but her giddiness made her legs wobble.
Doug watched from his car down the street. This guy was a smooth operator. Opening the door was a classy move and an easy way to initiate physical contact without being pushy. It didn't look like Alma minded. As Doug watched them go inside, he leaned his seat back and got comfortable in his car. It looked like it might be a long night. He could only hope his boss wasn't trying to reach him right now.
Haniel ordered a margarita pitcher along with chips and guacamole. Alma's eyes peeked up from the menu. She waited for the waitress to leave and whispered to Haniel. "I'm not old enough to drink yet."
He smiled. "I won't tell if you don't. When's your birthday?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.
"September first," she said.
Her answer caught him off guard. It was two days later than the date his father had given him—another inaccuracy in his father's "vision." "Maybe I can be your date for your birthday party."
"We'll see," she answered in a playful way.
Most women beamed at the idea of a second date let alone an allusion to dating for a few months, but Alma let him know not to get too far ahead of himself. Her answer impressed and intimidated him.
"How old are you?" she asked. A part of her worried he was over thirty. He didn't look it, but he seemed more worldly than she was.
"I'm twenty-three," he said, shaving three years off the truth.
Alma nodded and smiled. Haniel was glad he lied.
The waitress came and delivered their margaritas. Haniel whispered into Alma's ear, "But just in case you don't like your margarita, what do you want as a backup?" His cheek brushed against her long, dark hair, and his shoulder pressed against hers. The ache below his waist surprised him.
"Just some water," Alma said.
She was sweet, and he found himself enjoying that.
They ordered dinner, and Alma took a sip of her strawberry margarita. She thought the margarita would've been better without the sour taste of whatever alcohol they put in it, but she wanted to be grown-up so she sipped a little more. Each sip tasted better.
Alma tried to focus on Haniel instead
of looking at all the rest of the girls in the room. They were dressed so much sexier and seemed more sophisticated than her. She'd thought the place was just a restaurant, but there was a large bar area packed with people. The crowd made her anxious, but they had a nice, semicircular booth in the back.
"Do you like it?" Haniel asked, removing the straw and drinking straight from the glass.
Alma nodded and took another sip, enjoying the cold of her margarita. "What's this stuff around the outside?"
"Salt," he said. "Lick some and then drink," he said, doing the same thing.
She took a little lick on the side of the glass and then drank from her straw. Between her pink tongue on that glass and her cleavage, sweet Alma had quite an effect of him. He looked away to calm himself. He'd been to this place a few times. The bartender winked at him and gave him a thumbs up on his date. Haniel nodded at the guy, but didn't smile. Haniel didn't like what the guy seemed to be insinuating.
"Did you say you worked at the shop with your dad?" Alma said.
Haniel's attention snapped back to Alma. "Yeah. He bought the place about a year ago. I like it."
They enjoyed their meals. Alma ate tamales and tacos, and Haniel had his usual burrito combo plate. He took the opportunity to slide closer to her in the booth over the course of the meal.
"Do you like your job at Valley Classified?" he asked, knowing that keeping her talking was the key to a winning her trust. He refilled both their margarita glasses and signaled for a second pitcher when she wasn't looking.
"It's fun working with Doug, but it's obvious that the place won't last more than a few years."
"Doug," Haniel said, sensing a rival. "That's the guy who came with you to buy the watch and was with you at the lecture."
Alma nodded and sipped her margarita.
"You guys spend a lot of time together then," he said, picturing Doug. The man was tall, in shape, and good-looking. But why hadn't his rival closed the deal with Alma yet?
