The Trilogy of the Void: The Complete Boxed Set

by Peter Meredith

  Talitha, however ignored the bed completely. Not even having a purse to fling down upon it, the bed represented no more than an obstacle and she hurried around it to the door separating the two rooms. Jim followed a trifle reluctantly and pressed his left ear to the door, facing Talitha.

  From the room next door, Jim could hear only a smattering of muffled sounds and he figured what he was hearing was Will drinking himself into a stupor. He made an honest attempt at caring what was going on in there, after all, he did consider Will a friend, but after the first sniff of Talitha's hair, he knew Will would have to get drunk without him eavesdropping.

  She faced him, with her right ear to the door and due to the narrowness of it and his great size, he was right on top of her. She smelled of idealized flowers. Were ever a meadow to smell as she did, he would never leave it. He stood above her, breathing her in, making her a part of him, and he would've stayed there all night, but the smell triggered another reaction.

  He became alarmed at the swiftness of his body's response to her scent and the warmth of her closeness. Jim turned bodily towards the door and studied the fake wood grain with deep concentration, hoping to take his mind off of Talitha and the fact that his pants were starting to push outward painfully in the crotch.

  However, in seconds he realized that wasn't going to work and he turned, putting his right ear to the door.

  "Uh, this is my good ear," he mumbled as if he were eighty years old. Now he tried his best to listen to Will's drinking, but there was nothing coming from the other room that would distract his mind and he kept slipping into the memory of the bath Lisa had given Talitha that morning.

  Lisa had been very discreet, covering Talitha with a towel, but it clung to her curves in a way that had been tremendously erotic. The hints of her tan skin, glistening and soap covered had been more arousing than if she had been totally naked. Thankfully, Jim had a large arm full of towels to cover his erection, but he had no such luck just then.

  "Move your butt," she whispered leaning into him, "You're taking up the whole door." Feeling her against him was too much. He was becoming harder; bending at an odd angle and a glance down made him realize he would have to shift his apparatus quick.

  Without explanation, he walked quickly to the writing desk and sitting down he attempted to slide himself under it, but he was too big in more ways than one.

  "You ok?" Talitha asked, her ear coming off the door as she turned to him.

  "It's nothing," he spoke this quickly and glancing over, he saw that she was concerned for him. She took a step in his direction and he became filled with a stupid embarrassed panic. He struggled out of coat and balling it up, he crammed it onto his lap, "Just...just hot that's all."

  "Is it hot? Temperature is so relative, that I can't tell sometimes," she sat on the bed, feeling the comforter, running her hands over it gently, absently. "I hope he goes to sleep soon, or I should say, passes out soon. Drinking that much, that fast can't be good for you."

  "He's young still," Jim replied curtly, trying to keep his mind off Talitha and his erection, however when he got his mind off of one, it would jump directly to the other and he went back and forth between the two, a ping-pong of perversion.

  "I suppose so," her worry lines creasing her forehead, eased only slightly. "It could be the least of his problems." She kicked off her plain black shoes and laid back on the bed, the long dress riding up innocently, erotically.

  "Yeah," his eyes went to her calves, which were coltish and slim, but well muscled, and appeared soft and smooth, hairless. He felt his pants were about to rip open at the sight of such a simple thing and this amazed him. He looked up the lines of her legs, past the flat of her belly and saw her looking at him in a perplexed manner.

  Jim felt his face go pink and he tried to think past her body, to what she had been saying. "Yeah...the dreams, he's got to worry about those. I'm just glad it's not me. When you...the other you, told me about his seeing the future, my first thought was lucky bastard, but after last night...I'm happier not knowing what's to come." This topic was effectively killing his erection; he felt it diminishing by the second.

  "I have to agree, Que sera, sera, right?"

  He kept his face neutral. "Right." The other Talitha had said the same thing and he was still equally clueless as to what she meant. He felt so stupid compared to her and this drained away the last of his erection.

  She had her eyes on him, studying him, it made him feel uncomfortable. "Jim, do you know what that phrase means?"

  "No, not really."

  "And you think you're stupid because you don't." This wasn't a question, but a statement.

  Now his ears were really burning, in shame, but also with a little anger. There didn't seem to be any reason for her to be pointing out his faults, they were glaringly obvious. "Yes, among other reasons."

  "Jim, you are mistaking knowledge for intelligence," she said this, sad for him. Or perhaps it was pity he saw in her eyes. Either way he felt like he was waking from a wonderful dream, and it was slipping away from him as if it never was.

  "That's pretty stupid, too huh?"

  "No, it's not stupid, it's a mistake, a common one made by most people. There's a difference between knowledge and intelligence, let me show you. Tell the name of a play in football, make it a good one."

  If he were smart he would know what she was trying to get at, but he didn't have a clue. "Ok, a flea flicker."

  She grinned happily at the words. He couldn't help himself, and got lost in that smile and he watched as her lips parted and her teeth rose and fell and her tongue, small and pink, slipped about. "That's an easy one. A flea flicker is when the ball is given to the smallest boy and he is thrown into the goal area."

  She was being cute and he liked it. "No, not even close."

  "So, does that make me stupid, since I don't know something I've never heard before?"

  "No, but..."

  "But nothing! Intelligence is not gauged by the amount of trivial knowledge one acquires." She came to the side of the bed nearest to him.

  "Yeah, but it does make you look smarter."

  "I suppose it does and I like that. I like to appear smart. I also like to read and study, but that's me. Not everyone likes that sort of thing, what do you like to do?"

  He had to think about that. "I like to help my boys. Play with them; teach them things they won't learn in school. Show them how to be a proper man, a good person."

  Her face went deeply sad and it was no longer a sad look for him, but for herself. "You like to build your soul, while I like to build my brain...in the end, who's the smarter of the two of us?" she asked.

  He had never looked at his life like that and it made him feel better about himself. However, she appeared worse, not in his eyes but in her own and her smile was gone.

  To cheer her up, he gave her a big gap toothed grin. "You're still smarter, I'm sure."

  She looked at the grin with a touch of weariness and then forced herself to match it. "Yep, I'm the smartest. I just wish...I wish I could have a do-over. Start my life over again." She became glum, but for only a moment. And then she perked up with great insincerity—clearly remembering their pact to be happy. "What did you want to be when you grew up?"

  "Are you serious?" he asked with sudden embarrassment.

  "Sure, why not? We have all night."

  He chuckled, feeling absurd. "Ok, I wanted to be a soldier at first. We used to play war all the time, me, Sean Shay, Timmy Heddles."

  "War? Sounds like tons of fun," she said, being playfully sarcastic.

  "Hey don't knock it! It was fun, better than those goofy tea parties...please tell me you didn't throw tea parties."

  She beamed, the genuine article. "For a few years, I admit that I threw daily tea parties."

  "So what kind of tea set did you have? Barbie?"

  "I didn't have Barbie and I didn't want a Barbie tea set, my tea set was real," she said importantly. "Wipe that smirk off your face.
..the boys in my neighborhood didn't find my tea parties goofy."

  He exchanged his smirk with a look of frank surprise. "Really? Boys would play tea? I've never heard of such a thing; I'm being honest."

  "Well, my mom would let me serve lemonade and real cookies."

  Jim laughed hard at that. "Oh yeah, I would've come a running too. The girls where I grew up, made mud pies and served tap water, if you were lucky and puddle water if you weren't. And there was always..."

  He trailed off when he noticed her eyes had gone to the adjoining door, he could tell she was listening to her brother. "What is it?" he asked.

  Her face snapped back to his and she said, "Nothing."

  "Nothing? Are we keeping secrets, now? So early in our relationship?" He meant it to come out as a joke, but it sounded flirtatious instead and she gave him a look of surprise. However, her eyebrows slowly went back down as concern pushed its way onto her face.

  "Huh? Secrets? No...I mean yes." She looked pained for a moment. "It's Will. Sometimes when he's been drinking, he becomes morose. I didn't mean to be secretive. I just didn't want to embarrass him."

  "Morose? You mean sad? Why would that be embarrassing?" Jim asked.

  "He gets weepy sometimes when he drinks. But it's not his fault," she seemed desperate to defend her brother. "He's had it so tough...and he keeps coming back."

  "Look, you don't have to defend him for me," Jim said, gently taking her small hands in his. "Last night and today, I've seen what he goes through and I gotta tell you, I would weep to. In fact, since we're being so honest, I've cried more today than all the last twenty years combined."

  "It's been a tough day," she agreed. Jim blinked and fought the urge to rub his eyes. He didn't ever want to let go of her hands, but she looked at him with a small concern. "I'm sorry you can't go to sleep, you look tired."

  "Tired? Me? Heck no, I could talk to you all night."

  "Really?" She seemed simultaneously hopeful and thankful, and something passed between them. For a moment, their eyes locked and Jim felt the impossible to be just within his grasp.

  "Really," he said tenderly, but it was then that they both realized they were still holding hands and a coolness slipped over Talitha.

  "One second." She pulled her hands from his and crept to the door to listen for her brother.

  Jim's face fell and his soul sighed, a lonesome wind in a barren desert. Going to the door had been a polite excuse on her part to let go of his hands—she could hear all she wanted from the bed. And even though he felt a keen pain from within him, he wasn't angry with her. He had expected this. He was a great hideous ogre of a man and she was drop dead gorgeous. Had this been a movie, they would be together in the end, but this was real life and he knew he'd die alone.

  So he put his now familiar practiced fake smile on to cover his embarrassment, "Is he doing anything else?" He had wanted the question to sound natural, as if he hadn't noticed that she was repulsed by him, but it came out overly cheery instead.

  Her eyes closed for a second as if she had felt a hidden pain in his words. "No...only that he has quieted down. I think he might be asleep soon." She wandered away from the door nonchalantly and now went to the curtained window and peeked out. Their view was a parking lot and the back of another building.

  She stared at it a long time.

  "Good, I hope his dreams are productive." He said it, but secretly hoped they wouldn't be. If they were anything like his dreams from the day before, the night would be a horror.

  There was a silence now between them and it was uncomfortable. Jim tried to think of something to talk about, but everything that came to mind either was related to the terrible events of the last day or concerned her and his growing feelings. Neither a suitable conversation at the moment. But thankfully, Talitha ended the silence.

  She squared her shoulders and drawing in a deep breath, she looked him in the face, and asked, "So what else did you want to be when you grew up?"

  "Huh?" The question was unexpected. He had figured by her quick preparations that he was going to get a, I think we should just be friends talk.

  "You said earlier, that you wanted to be a soldier, at first. What did you want to be next?" she asked.

  He let out a laugh that was partially relief; he hated the let's just be friends talk. "I...this is going to sound silly, but I wanted to be Spider Man."

  She laughed loudly too. "You know that Spider Man is a fictitious character and not an occupation, right?"

  "Are you trying to ruin the dreams of my six-year-old inner child?"

  "Oh no, of course not." She sobered up, becoming professional, "What I meant to say, is that the position of Spider Man has been filled. However, if you fill out the spidey-application, we will notify you if an opening becomes available."

  "That's better," he grinned through the words. The tension of a minute before was gone and their relationship, their one sided relationship was as it was before. She would be his friend and he would love her, and Jim was fine with that.

  "Did you have Spider Man under-roos?" she asked teasingly.

  "Oh man, I wish! The orphanage was way too poor and we only got cast offs and hand-me-downs."

  "Used underwear? Yeesh!" she said and he laughed at the cute face she made. "So why Spider Man? Wasn't he a small guy? Wasn't his secret identity...puny Parker?"

  "Peter Parker and yes he was small, but back then so was I. I had no clue that I would turn out so big." He leaned back in the chair and it creaked loudly under his mass. "I felt small next to the big boys and I wanted to be like Spidey, small but superfast and strong." His memory of those years was patchy like a puzzle missing half the pieces, but there was still enough for him to smile at his goofy six-year-old self.

  She gave him an appraising eye. "Look at you now. I would make a better Spider Man."

  "What? No way. You probably don't know the first thing about Spider Man." This may have been the silliest conversation of his entire adult life, but he didn't care.

  "Sure I do, I knew his alter-ego didn't I? And I know he can shoot webs and climb walls." She wore a smug self-satisfied look.

  "His name is Spider Man! For a genius, you're not impressing me with shooting webs and climbing walls. How did he get his powers?" If she knew that, he would definitely be impressed.

  However, she didn't know and squirreling up her face she replied, "Magic?"

  "That settles it. I'm Spider Man. Oh and did you hear that? It's Spider MAN, not Spider-woman."

  "This is a new era my friend, woman's lib and all that. I'm faster and stronger than you, I'm Spider Man." She no longer was smiling, but had a challenge brewing in her eyes.

  "I'm stronger." Jim insisted. He loved a challenge, especially one where strength was involved. "You want to arm wrestle?" He asked half-jokingly. He knew she was strong, but there was no way she was anywhere near as strong as he was.

  "Come on tough guy," she beckoned him with her hands. He shrugged and turned the desk around and put his chair on the other side, settling in across from her.

  "If I win, I'm Spider Man," he said and though he tried to keep a straight face, he broke and smiled. She had to bite her cheeks and suck in her lips, but she didn't smile, except for her eyes, which beamed like that of a child's.

  "Ok, but if you lose then I'm Spiderman and you're Wonder Woman. Your boobs are bigger than mine after all." She pulled the black dress tight across her chest and looked down. He looked as well. Her breasts were high and firm, and though normally lost in the shapeless black dress, they were now quite visible beneath the tight material.

  He looked up quickly when she did and tried not to think about the sudden stirring in his loins and said, "I don't have boobs. I have pecs." He gave her a quick show, flexing his massive muscles and she imitated him adding a little, "Grrr!" She was being adorable and cute and silly and sweet all at once. It was wonderful.

  "Show me what you got big boy." She got herself into position, but Jim had to scoot his
chair far back in order to bring his hand down low enough to hold hers without lifting it up. It was a terrible position to arm wrestle from, but Jim didn't think it would matter; he'd never in his life lost at arm wrestling.

  Jim looked into her brown eyes. "On the count of three, one, two, three!" They both began, not using their full strength, but ratcheted it up quickly, until their faces were red and straining. Talitha's power amazed Jim. It was like trying to push back against the half-buried root of a tree. He was forced to put every ounce of strength of his great arm into the challenge before she started to bend against him and it was another minute before he could finally pin her hand down.

  Taking a deep breath, he asked, "Tell me you didn't let me win!"

  Rubbing her wrist, she shook her head. "No, that was all you. I actually can't believe it; I didn't think you would win, especially with that angle you were at. I could use my whole shoulder and most of my back and all you had was part of your arm." She looked impressed and Jim felt a foolish warm glow. "You know, the other...Evil T, she isn't afraid of you at all. She's afraid of Will, but not you. She should be though."

  "I didn't think she was afraid of anything."

  "Well, she's not afraid really, but she knows Will plans on killing her the next time he sees her. I felt it distinctly the last time we switched places. I can hear her thoughts, her last thoughts, before we change places."

  "And you don't think she's afraid of me? She thinks she can take me in a fight? That's crazy," he smirked in disbelief.

  "I don't know about it being crazy," she said it slowly, smiling another challenge. "I know for a fact that she's pretty quick and you would've to catch her first, something I don't think you can do."

  "I bet it'll be easier than you'd think, all I'd have to do is this." He stretched his long arm across the desk to grab her, but in a blur she kicked herself backwards. A happy smile lit up her face, as she and the chair fell straight back.

  Jim leapt up alarmed that she would crack her skull on the floor of the room, but she rolled with the chair as it hit, turning a tight summersault, pausing midway through the motion to push herself into a tall handstand.