Leading me to a stone bench, we sit. “Rachel has done very well. Her skin responded and cleared.”
“That is wonderful news.” I sigh with relief.
“She has been highly agitated the last few days, afraid you would not come for her.”
“I was afraid of that. As you can see, I encountered some trouble on my way here and lost a few days’ travel time.” I pause, “Can I see her.”
“She’s down at the solarium. I will have someone show you the way.”
After a few minutes, a middle-aged woman appears and we walk outside on a path that curves around a rocky area. “How much farther?” I ask.
“Not too far.”
“Does this path lead there directly?”
The woman nods.
“I can find it from here.” I don’t want anyone else there, if possible, when I see Rachel for the first time again.
As the path veers left, I look down upon what appears to be an open circular area of smooth, white boulders that form an outdoor room. Gleaming off the stones, the sun throws light from every direction. Rachel is at the room’s center, lying naked on a bed of white rock. I stand there, for a moment, taking in her deeply tanned, lean body. All the skin lesions have cleared and her small frame appears toned from the natural eating. Not wanting to scare her and just come up upon her, I kick some stones on the path to alert her to someone approaching.
Startled, she stands suddenly, at first wobbly on her feet and grabs a garment to hold in front of her. As I round the opening to the solarium, her face is a portrait of the changing seasons of emotion, rapidly fleeting from one to another as her eyes fill with tears.
“You look beautiful. And healthy.” I walk toward her, knowing my smile is telling her exactly what I’m feeling. Taking the garment from her hands, I let it fall to the floor so that I may enjoy every inch of her exquisite beauty. Her arms, legs, and torso appear clear of the insidious disease.
As I stand before her, I drop to my knees, my head bowed as if praying to my goddess. Grabbing the outer portion of her thighs, I pull my head closer, my forehead resting against the soft hairs of her sex, fragrant with eucalyptus and sea air. A moment or two passes before her fingers rake through my hair.
“You came for me,” her words are choked as she too sinks to her knees where we remain forehead to forehead for a long while. Finally, she asks, “What happened to you, David.”
“I was leaving Jerusalem to come for you and the Roman guard had different plans for me.” I pull my head back to look at her face. “How are you? Physically you look so wonderful. But, how are you?”
“I am strong and at peace.”
“Are you ready to go home?” I brush her hair from her face a second before the confused look appears.
“Home? To your home?”
“To yours. To your family,” I explain.
“Family. I have no family. They disowned me and left me for dead. Do not send me back to them. I won’t go.” She searches my eyes frantically.
“You know the law dictates your father makes the decision.”
“Yes. He already made it. He threw me away and I am not his property anymore.” Her face is becoming red with anger.
“I want to do this right, Rachel.” My voice is low and calm in an attempt to diminish her anxiety.
“Do what right, David? Have him reject and humiliate me again? Did I go through all the healing just to cut open the emotional scars?” The pain in her voice is heartbreaking.
Taking her face in both my hands, “I have business with your father.”
Her brows crease in confusion. “Business with my father?” she repeats.
I nod. “I need to negotiate a mohar with your father.”
Rachel’s mouth drops open at the mention of a mohar, the price the groom’s father, in this case the groom, agrees to pay the bride’s father to marry his daughter. It is customary for the father to then give the mohar to his daughter, those who keep it for themselves are considered unkind and harsh.
“Are you saying we will be betrothed, David?”
“If your father agrees.”
“And if he doesn’t?” She looks concerned.
“Then we leave. He did already disown you. I am doing this out of respect.”
“But what would happen then?” I can see the haunting specter of her father’s betrayal weighing heavily on her heart.
“Then, Daniel marries us and we move forward as we would anyway.”
Softly, she caresses my cheek. “You want to make me your bride?”
Leaning forward, I whisper in her ear, “I think I already have.”
And I am rewarded with her beautiful smile. “Now you’ve healed my heart, David.”
Shaking my head, “It is you who has healed mine by giving me back the half I didn’t know had gone astray. Because of you, I will be a better man and a better rabbi to the people of Judea. How does one teach others to love when one does not know how himself?”
Falling quiet for a few minutes with his head down on his chest, Claire waited for him to continue before probing Jesse when he remained silent. “Did you meet with her father?” she asked, looking for more information.
“Yes. He was a lout. Her mother and sister felt bad, I could tell, and I know her mother could rest easy knowing she was with me. I ended up giving the father some silver and gold, which he kept for himself. But that was fine, because we were officially betrothed and she was legally free of him. Rachel was mine and I took her away from there, a place where she was ostracized, to a new community based on love and acceptance.”
“What are you seeing now?” Claire asked.
“Nothing. I’m not seeing anything.”
“Can you tell me more about David’s life?”
“No. I see nothing.”
“You don’t know what happened with him and Rachel?”
“No.”
Putting her tablet down on the desk, she knew the window to question him had closed. “Okay, on the count of three you will be back here in my office and you will leave David behind. One,” she paused. “Two,” another pause. “Three.”
With a flick of his hand, Jesse pulled the RGB glasses from his eyes as he sat up. Putting his face in his hands, with his elbows resting on his thighs, he sat there in silence. Eventually he sat back and exhaled loudly, as if he’d been holding his breath for a lifetime.
“Shit, Dr. S. Just when I think these things can’t get any more emotional, boom! Rachel appears. And Daniel.”
“What do you think you learned?” she probed, putting her tablet down on the table at her side.
“I’m not sure. I really need to think about this. And I don’t know what the outcome was. I was clearly empathetic to the needs of others and a Good Samaritan, but I don’t know that I initially had the control to do what was best for Rachel. I learned the power that came with love and I hope I used it wisely. With her and members of the congregation.” Stopping, he stared at a point on the floor, eventually shaking his head, “Rachel.” His right hand repeatedly raked though the front of his hair. “Oh, God, my heart hurts. My heart physically hurts. What the fuck.”
“Let’s take a few minutes here.” Claire could see her patient struggling, emotionally caught in a world he would never physically exist in again. Overwhelmed by feelings for a woman he’d never see again. “It’s like a death coming out of these regressions, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I had a hard time shaking the essence of Julia, she just attached to my soul and now Rachel is there. I want to know what happened.” He searched Claire’s face for an answer.
“Most likely that will never happen, Jesse. When you get back, we can try, with specifically guided meditation, to see if we can learn more, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up. You just have to come to terms with what you do know.”
Sitting back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling, “I’m having a rough time with this one. I knew what happened with me and Julia, so there was a kind of closure. I k
new how it ended. But with Rachel, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I’m left feeling worried. I don’t have the answers. I want the answers.”
“I understand, but you need to accept the fact that you may never know. One of the things I find interesting here is that you had a flock, your congregations, which kind of has a synergy with a fan base like you have today. People who follow you. And with Gaius, you had a legion of soldiers you commanded. I can see the parallels. You are very focused on leading and bringing direction to others, and sometimes you get lost in the mix.”
When he didn’t respond, she went on. “This is a lot to digest, I know. I’m glad we’re going to be doing Skype sessions for the next few weeks. I think after today it’s really important we don’t miss a session. If you need me in between, you’ve got my emergency contact information.”
Patient: Jesse Winslow
Session # 52
Date: 6/24/15
Regression # 13
Regression Length: 10:08A.M. – 10:46 A.M.
Entity: David ben Abraham
Location: Israel
Year: 1st Century AD
••••••
Checking his phone in the building’s lobby, there were no new messages from Kylie. Pulling up the picture from the night before, he smiled at her image as if she could see him. Just seeing her face brought him solace and calm. His snarky Miss Jersey was surprisingly the most grounding person he’d ever met.
Toots, love the pic with your hair blowing wildly. Hot. Hot. Hot. Missing you something awful. Just had an intense regression with Dr. S. Can’t wait to tell you about it. I’m stuck in that netherworld place right now. I know you get that. So, I’m feeling all kinda outta sorts and I just want to stick my face in your soft, gorgeous boobs (I know you get that, too). I miss you. Here’s my pic today. ☺
Holding out the camera, he took a selfie, bottom lip stuck out in a pout. Looking at it, he laughed and then sent it.
Chapter 15
Today’s picture, as you can see, is of my feet. They are KILLING me. I was in boots with six-inch spike heels–on ice! My feet started to go numb after the first hour and then the pain started. It was pure torture and those pics better have come out good because I am not putting my feet in those fuckers again! I will go total NJ bitch diva on these people if I am asked to put anything but flat shearling boots on my feet the rest of the time we are here shooting. By the time we got back to the hotel tonight, it was nearly eleven p.m. and as much as I want to hear your voice, I can’t do that to you at three a.m. But if you were here, those two feet you see in that picture would be in your lap and I’d probably be doing something disgusting, like talking baby talk to you, to get you to give me a foot massage. This bitch is not too proud to beg. I’d tell you to do it hard in the arches with your thumbs. Mmm, even harder. The foot that was still in your lap would be rubbing its arch over something else that’s hard. And trying to get it even harder. When you put the first foot down and start working on the second one, the first foot takes over rubbing your cock through your jeans until you finally unzip and take that gorgeous baby out for me to rub. With the arch of one of my feet rubbing your cheek, the arch of the other fits perfectly around your dick and rubs in time with the other foot. When you slide my big toe in your mouth and start sucking, I press you hard with my other foot, feeling you harden even more against me. You know how much I love making you hard. Taking my other foot back from you, I put you between my feet so that you fit snuggly between my arches and then I begin to rub up and down. With my legs spread and my knees pointing outward, you can watch my pussy get wetter and wetter as my feet jerk you off. Dropping a few drops of oil in each arch, you put your hands on the outside of my feet, pressing them tighter around you as you take control of the pressure and the rhythm to get yourself off. I’m enjoying the look on your face and I can’t wait to see you come. Reaching down, I spread the lips of my pussy, just so you can get a good look at how wet I am, before slipping a finger deep inside. I love watching your face as I do this and what I love even more is that you do not miss a beat pumping my feet up and down on your slick, hard cock. Pulling my finger out of my pussy, it makes a little popping sound and I bring the wet finger to my lips, coating my bottom lip with my juices. When my finger slides into my mouth, your moan makes me quiver and I watch as you close your eyes and a warm load spurts from you, landing all over my feet.
Good morning, baby! Hope you love the picture and my fantasy and that it helps you start your day off right. I miss you so much, too. I can’t wait to hear about your session with Claire. We are shooting out near Denali tomorrow and I don’t think we’ll have cell signal. If we get back at a decent hour, I will call. I miss you so much, Jesse. xoxo ☺ Btw, there’s no pouting in rock ’n’ roll! (your picture)
••••••
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful,” Kylie was glancing out the window of the van, watching the sun rise over Denali, bathing the mountain’s summit in a warm orange glow and taking pictures with her cell phone. Jesse was going to get more than one picture today. This was just too magnificent not to share and she knew how much the beauty of nature inspired his writing. Jesse Fucking Winslow. He turned out to be an unexpected joy. A pretty boy with a bad reputation was an amazing façade he had built, for the Jesse she knew was deep and spiritual and protective.
“What are you smiling about?” Sarah Eggleston was turned around in the seat in front of her.
“Well, first that gorgeous sunrise and the way it is lighting up the top of the mountain. I shot some pictures to send to Jesse later when we have cell service again. And that got me thinking about Jesse.” Kylie couldn’t help but smile as her heart warmed at the thought of him.
Getting up from her seat, Sarah moved back a row to sit next to Kylie. “That is so cool you are dating Jesse Winslow.”
Kylie laughed. “Cool or a curse?”
“Yeah. Every woman on the planet wants your boyfriend.”
Kylie rolled her eyes. “No shit. It’s hard not being able to go anywhere without being recognized.”
“That’s right, you guys got nailed in Starbucks.” She laughed, “Those were super-hot pictures. What were you feeding each other?”
“An éclair he brought me back from Paris.”
“He brought that all the way back. That is so sweet.”
With a conspiratorial tone, Kylie told the teen, “He’s really very sweet, but don’t let anyone know, ‘cause he loves that bad boy persona.” She could feel her heart glow just talking about him. A moment passed and when the teen didn’t speak, Kylie seized a moment she knew she might never have again. “So, how long have you been battling the eating thing?”
Picking at her chipped pink gel manicure, Sarah admitted, “Two years.”
“Binge and toss or are you doing laxatives, too?”
“A little of everything.” The teen was clamming up.
Kylie knew that she had the key, so she quickly inserted it in the door and unlocked as fast as she could. “It’s fucked up. And you know it’s fucked up, but it just kinda takes control, you know. It was a way of life for almost everybody on the pageant circuit. And we all knew it. And we all had convinced ourselves that we had everything under control. Because it’s about control when you really have none. None of us have controlled our own lives since we were like three years old when we started getting paraded out on stages.”
“The pageant thing starts that young?”
She nodded. “You never have a childhood, not even a pre-school one. And the parents are generally lunatics. Like totally certifiable. Fucked-up insane mothers who are either ex-Miss something or another or total wannabes.”
Kylie could see from the teen’s face that she found her way in. Sarah was listening, whether it be because she was formerly on the Miss America tour or because Jesse Winslow was her boyfriend, it really didn’t matter. Just as long as Kylie could get her to stay open and listen.
“
Before pageants were the worst, we would just abuse the shit out of ourselves so that our stomachs were flat for the freaking bathing suit competition. There’s just so much pressure, you know.” Turning to the teen, “I can’t even imagine the pressure you feel.”
“My high school is like Fashion Week in New York, every single week. My father owns a major clothes company and I can’t keep up with the fashionistas. It is the most judgmental place on the planet.”
“The bottom line, Sarah, is you can’t let these bitches define how you feel about yourself. Some nasty little twits don’t deserve that power. If something they don’t like makes you happy, too bad. Think about this, have you ever met a hater who was doing better than you?”
The teen thought for a moment. “No.”
“Exactly,” Kylie concurred. “These bitches are miserable and they just want to drag you down with them. Most likely they are jealous of you.”
“I never thought about it that way.”
“My whole life centered around me being thin and looking perfect and my whole self-worth was wrapped up in it. And one day I woke up and thought ‘I want to go down to the corner grocery, buy a container of Ben & Jerry’s, eat it in one sitting and not feel guilty about it, and not stick my finger down my throat’. I want to be like, okay, I binged, so what. Next. And that turned into a rebellion of sorts for me. It was my way of taking my life back. And when I got dethroned as Miss New Jersey, everyone thought I’d ruined my life. But I felt like a nine-hundred-pound boat anchor had been lifted off me and for the first time I could start discovering what made me happy. Not my parents, not my coaches, not the pageant people. Me. What made me happy? Because I had no friggin idea.”
“Wow and you’re beautiful just the way you look.”
“Thank you. And one of the most amazing men on the planet thinks so too. So, you don’t have to starve yourself to fit in or because you think it’s what you have to do. I’ve lost friends to eating disorders, Sarah. Please don’t go down that rabbit hole. You are smart and beautiful and the people you want around you are people who appreciate you for you. I know it’s not easy and sometimes it’s about finding the right person to help you, a person you click with.”
Love on the Edge of Time Page 23
