The women searched through the bras and by the end of nearly an hour of modeling and choosing, Ursula selected five different styles.
“You’re just one of those women who likes to get your shopping over with, aren’t you?” Adele laughed as she wrapped the bras in green tissue paper.
“For bras, yes. Shoes, I can shop for hours, each and every day,” Ursula laughed. She looked at the clock. “Oh, my, it’s nearly eleven. I have a client at noon so I’d better get back.”
“Thank you,” Adele called after Ursula as the woman hurriedly pushed through the door with her packages.
Once Ursula left, there was a steady trickle of customers wanting various pieces of lingerie. Adele flew around the shop, helping the ladies, encouraging them to try new styles and complimenting them on their choices.
When Gus entered the store, Adele was surprised to see it was nearly three. Gus’s large broad body blocked the door for a moment as he looked around the shop with brooding dark eyes. When he spotted Adele, he entered, his face straining to smile.
“Are you here for the outfit?” Adele asked him. Gus nodded.
“You called Natasha to say it’s in?” he asked. “She told me.”
“Well, let’s have you try it on and see how it fits,” Adele said.
Adele went into the back and retrieved a large package that had been shipped from Manhattan. She pulled out the custom-designed leather vest and pants.
The rich leather smell filled the shop.
“Mmm,” sighed Adele. “Don’t you just love the smell of leather?”
“Sure,” Gus said uncomfortably, staring at the leather pants.
“Here, go try them on,” Adele gave him the clothes and waited for him to dress. She patiently waited while the sounds of snaps and zippers came from the other side of the curtain. At last, he pulled it back and stood before her. Adele could feel the animal magnetism oozing from him. His broad chest and rippled abs peeked out from the vest.
“Turn around,” Adele said as she studied the vest. “It doesn’t hug your T-frame as tightly as it should.”
“No?” Gus asked, turning sideways to try to see. “You’re wearing it like that, right?”
“I guess,” he said, running his hands through his short dark hair.
She looked down at his trousers and indicated for him to turn around again. They hung loosely, puckering in odd places from his waist to his feet.
“I don’t wonder if you’ve lost weight since you were measured,” Adele mused as she knelt down beside him. She pinched at the leather.
“I probably have,” Gus said. “Who knows? I don’t keep track. I’ve been awfully hungry lately.”
“I’m sure,” Adele nodded. She stood up and went over to her counter. “We’re going to have to send this back. Natasha would kill me if I let you leave here looking like that.”
“Well, I was planning to get dressed again,” Gus joked. The laughter didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I know. But I mean, for this price, it should look much better,” Adele said. “The whole point of custom-made is that it fits perfectly. That’s what you’re paying for.”
“Sure. As long as it’s done in time,” Gus said. He frowned, his eyes gazing at something far away.
“It will be, don’t you worry,” Adele promised.
Gus appeared lost in thought for a moment. He shook his head and patted his stomach.
“Sorry,” he said. “Stomach’s rumbling.”
“A long time since you’ve eaten?” Adele asked.
“Let’s just say I can hardly wait ’til Natasha and I go to Boston. The big city has everything one desires.”
“That’s for sure,” Adele smiled as she put the package with the suit in it under the counter. She leaned on the counter.
“So, I take it you and Natasha are still pretty tight?” Adele asked.
Gus nodded. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said.
“She’s pretty happy with you too.”
“Really?” Gus’s face took on a boyish look of innocence and wonder. Adele smiled, seeing what it was that melted Natasha’s cold heart.
“Yes, really,” Adele replied.
“Sometimes I feel like she’s angry at me. And I’m not sure why.”
“Don’t worry about her. She’s that way with everyone. It’s who she is, what she is,” Adele said. She took Gus’s hand into hers. It was large and warm and when their fingers touched, she saw flashes of red and glimpses of sharp jagged teeth. The nightmare came back to haunt her.
“You’ll be fine,” she said as she looked up into Gus’s eyes. She tried to see through him, past him, to unearth what it was that made him so unusually sad.
“Do you think spring is ever going to come?” Gus asked.
Adele continued to stare through him as she replied. “It’s only March. It’s on its way. I could feel it in the air on my way to work this morning.”
“I could smell it too,” Gus said. His eyes fell upon a bin of thongs. He plucked out a black velvet one adorned with lace and pearls.
“Do you think Natasha would like something like this?” Gus asked.
Adele nodded.
“Any woman would love to have a fussy little thing like that given to her. It’s so pretty.”
Adele’s fingers lightly stroked the delicate black lace edging. She studied Gus’s strong jaw and high cheekbones. She still couldn’t imagine how he could shapeshift so quickly, yet that was one of the wonders of nature.
“We have matching ones for men,” Adele said, steering him towards another bin. She picked through until she found a black velvet man’s version with support straps hidden inside.
“She’ll love you in this,” Adele winked. “Trust me.” She stopped herself from thinking too hard about how hot both Natasha and Gus would look in their matching thongs: his muscular, toned thighs and rippled abs highlighted by a carefully placed package paired with Natasha’s tall, pale lean form and firm thighs. Adele imagined Natasha’s ass was rather shapely underneath the long black skirts she wore constantly.
“Take a picture for me,” Adele said as she packaged up the thongs.
“Whatever you say,” Gus blushed.
“You two would look so adorable right here by the till.” Adele patted the counter.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Gus. He smirked. “Well, I know you’re kidding. We both
know Natasha.”
This caused them both to grin, but again, his mirth didn’t reach his eyes. His aura was murky and smoky, as if tornado clouds were brewing. He looked at the clock once more.
“Damn, I’m going to be late,” he said. “Gotta go.”
Adele watched him leave just as Lindsay came into the store. The girl was seventeen and wore her red hair in long braids as if she went to Hogwarts or some other private school. In truth, the girl was in public high school and she was often mocked for her penchant for braids, white shirts with frilled collars and black kilts. More than once, Adele wondered if the teenager would grow up to marry a man with a taste for naughty little schoolgirls. Or if she would ever dye her carrot-orange hair.
“You’re early,” Adele said.
“I hurried. It’s not that warm out today,” Lindsay replied as she took her coat off and hung it in the storage room.
“No, it’s only March,” Adele said.
“In like a lion and out like a lamb?”
She sighed. “Maybe this is the lamb and we’ll be wishing all we had was gloomy cold.”
“You’re silly, Adele,” Lindsay said.
“I’m sorry. It’s just a weird saying.”
“I figured that you, of all people, would be used to weird sayings,” Lindsay said as she grabbed a broom and dustpan to sweep the area by the front entrance.
“Yes, I do have buckets of weird sayings, but that was one that always kind of bothered me. I’ve never really noticed it to be true.”
Lindsay swept, scraping up damp c
lumps of salt and pine needles.
“There’s always endless pine needles. It gets on my nerves,” she said as she stopped down to manually pick up the more stubborn and wet needles that clung to the floor.
“One of the perks of living in New England,” Adele said.
“Yeah, that and the endless fog.” Lindsay looked wistfully out the window.
The girl was right. A late afternoon fog was rolling. She wondered if a storm was coming and if it would be rain or snow. This time of year was always a roll of the dice. And with the advent of global warming, the wacky weather patterns weren’t just reserved for spring and fall. Weather was a year-round guessing game. Adele had long ago stopped putting her winter things in storage. Some summer nights were nearly as cold as a February thaw.
“You can see things in the fog,” Adele said as she joined Lindsay at the window. The fog rolled in thick tumbling clumps, almost like a parade.
“I know that. I saw that Stephen King movie. I think I’ll stay inside,” Lindsay shuddered.
“No, not scary things. Well, maybe sometimes scary. But you can scry in the fog, much like you can in campfire smoke. Try it.”
Lindsay squinted her eyes.
“It’s going by too fast. I can’t see anything.” She sighed.
Adele continued to look at the fog. She could see people from other centuries walking down the street. The mishmash of styles belied ghosts from various eras. Native Americans walked with a teenage rapper; a woman in a long evening gown strolled with a young lady in a brilliant tube top and pink hot pants.
“There are a lot of ghosts in that fog,” Adele confirmed and returned to her busywork. Lindsay put away the broom and dustpan and started to tidy up the displays.
“Well, there may be ghosts but I don’t see them. I don’t even know if I want to.”
“I know, sometimes I don’t want to see them either,” said Adele. “I’m lucky it’s not all the time. It has to be something really unusual, like that thick fog, for me to see ghosts. Some of my friends see ghosts all the time.”
“That’s just too creepy for me,” Lindsay said. “I’d rather deal with living people.”
“Me, too.”
“It’s hard enough to deal with living people. Let alone all those dead ones.”
“Don’t I know it!”
* * *
Adele was nearly late for her art class. She taught a few times a week at the school a few blocks from the store. There were several extracurricular classes run in the various rooms on a regular basis for the residents of Hermana. Everything from sewing to séances could be learned in the evenings, if someone was willing to teach it.
She hurried in and rushed to set up her easel and organize her tools. Breathless, she turned and looked around the classroom. Silently, she counted heads. Everyone was there. Even Madeleine.
She smiled at Madeleine, her Aquarius friend from Lucy’s circles, then turned to mark down the attendance before she forgot.
The door opened and a tall, muscular, dark-haired man walked in. He stood awkwardly, his blues shining. His jaw was strong, a five o’clock shadow accenting his cheeks and chin.
“I’m—uh, here for the painting class,” he stammered and blushed. Adele grinned at his shyness and rushed towards him.
“Come in. I’m Adele, the teacher,” she said. She showed him to a spot where he could take out one of the easels and set up his supplies. As the man emptied his knapsack, Adele watched him with interest. His aura swirled with magenta and green hues, with a tinge of black threading through it. He had a very young face. His partially grown-in beard gave him a boyishly scruffy look. She guessed he was in his twenties.
Once he had pulled out his tools, Adele returned to the front of the class.
“As you see, we have a new student. Can you tell us a bit about yourself?”
“I’m Devin,” he said and blushed again. “I’m new to Hermana. I’ve always enjoyed painting and when I heard about this aura painting class, I thought it sounded kind of cool.”
Adele smiled. “Is there anything else you’d like to add?”
“No, not right now,” he said, trying to look busy with his brushes.
“Well, let’s go around the room and introduced ourselves so that Devin feels more at home.”
* * *
After the introductions were finished, Adele resumed the lesson.
“Today we’re going to explore what light and shadow mean to you. There is no right and wrong to this exercise. Just imagine something in your head with light and shadows and try to capture how you feel about it.”
Madeleine sighed loudly. Adele turned to look at her.
“Yes, Madeleine?” Adele asked.
“It’s always about feeling. I just find it so hard sometimes.”
“You’re doing great,” Adele said. “Ever since you came back from your trip to California, you’ve come a long way.”
Madeleine bowed her head. “Thank you. But it’s still hard.”
Adele shrugged. “Just do your best. That’s all you can do.”
Madeleine set to work putting brush against paper. Adele walked around the room, listening to the sound of paint touching paper, smelling the different scents of the pigments mixed with the cologne and aftershave of her students.
As she paced, she wasn’t really watching what people were doing. Not just yet. She liked to give them a chance to explore what they needed to say. She only walked around in case someone had a question. She found that if she sat down while they worked, they felt less inclined to approach her. Often, she’d study their auras, making mental notes for paintings she would explore in her free time.
At last, more than a half hour had passed and she allowed herself to gaze upon her students’ work. Each painting was a unique rendering of light and dark. Some chose people; others chose objects. She stopped at Devin’s easel.
“Oh my,” she said as she stared at his painting. He looked at her anxiously.
“What?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I can’t describe it,” Adele said as a wash of warmth spread over her. The sensation tunnelled through her, awakening each and every sense in her body. Happiness bubbled through her veins.
“What is it?” she asked. But as she stared at the painting, it suddenly pulled into focus. It was a landscape. Tall trees with odd-shaped leaves rimmed a large purple meadow. In the distance, magenta mountains loomed higher than the canvas would allow. A pale blue brook was half finished and rough sketches of people having a picnic on the shore were barely discernable.
“It’s just a place,” Devin said, his eyes growing wide. As he stared at her, a pull tickled at Adele’s stomach and spread out down to her thighs and up across her breasts. The area was warm as her chakras opened wider—for the first time in a long time.
“Who are you?” Adele asked. She stared at his aura, magenta, green, yellow and blue ribbons danced along his head.
“I’m your new student,” he said.
“That’s not really what I meant,” Adele said. She gazed upon the painting once more. The sensuous pull it had on her wrapped around her body, seemingly wanting her to climb inside. It would be fun to go somewhere warm and have a picnic. The people in the picture, as crudely rendered as they were, had no clothes on, so the weather was mild. She imagined the sound of the brook when it was done and could almost feel the soft breeze on her face. Her groin throbbed with anticipation as she stared at the rolling expanse of hills before the mountains.
“Are you okay?” Devin asked her.
“Me? Of course,” Adele said giving her head a shake. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to a new student having such skill on the first day.”
“I’m not a beginner,” Devin said. “I’ve been painting my whole life.”
“It shows. And my, I must say you’re very fast.”
“Sometimes I am. Especially the landscapes. They come so quickly, it’s like I never drew them at all.”
“Almost lik
e you’re channelling,” Adele said. She turned to the rest of the class. “Devin has reminded me of a topic we’ve not discussed in a while. Do all of you know what channelling is?”
Madeleine put up her hand. “It’s when a spirit or force comes through us, as if we’re just a vessel for something else, and as the spirit, we relay a message in some manner.”
“That’s right. Devin goes into a trance when he works, like most of us do. But in his trance, he perhaps is not painting a vision that is his own. There’s a school of thought that believes the arts are resonating on another plane. Only intuitive and talented people can tap into this plane. Some people have to work at it, while for others, it just comes naturally, even if they don’t know how they did it.”
“So, how do you get to this plane if you don’t just stumble into it?” asked Colleen.
“Meditation. Spirit guides. You can meditate about finding the answer in a file folder in a filing cabinet in some mighty storage unit in some other dimension. Or for the purposes of this class, you can meditate about painting the answer to your question right here in this room.”
“How do you do it, Devin?” Madeleine asked.
“I’m not sure. Like I said, it just happens.”
“Maybe we can find out how to tap into it and make it even stronger,” Adele said. “Channelling is often something coming from another world into this one. Like a ghost.”
“Or something else,” Madeline said.
“And you would know. Madeleine is a paranormal investigator. She just got back from filming a paranormal reality series in a haunted asylum in California.”
“Did you see any ghosts?” Devin asked.
Madeleine nodded. “Oh, yes. There were ghosts there all right.”
“Did you channel anything?” Adele asked.
“Me? Not really. Not like some of the other people in this town do. Channelling is a bit scary for me. I’m having a hard enough time getting in touch with my feelings for a painting class.”
Pisces: Teacher's Pet Page 2
