Among The Cloud Dwellers (Entrainment Series)

by Giuliana Sica

  He was so close I noticed his eyelashes fading from dark brown into blonder tips. His crystal blue eyes stared right back at me for what seemed like an eternity. “It won’t be the last either.” He lowered his head to brush my lips.

  “So how do you do it?” I whispered against the softness of his mouth. My eyes never left his.

  “Salty.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Your mouth is salty.”

  “I bet I’m salty everywhere,” I teased.

  “Close your eyes.”

  “What for?”

  “It won’t feel the same if you keep them open.”

  The mere brush of a feather was all I felt at first. I struggled to keep my eyes closed and concentrate on the lightest shift of heat to follow his movements. On my neck at first, he barely caressed the moist skin with the tip of his tongue. My skin rose to respond, my breath quickened in anticipation, and red swirls spiraled behind my shut eyelids. A trail of warm sand tickled the inside of my right wrist and softly rained all the way up to the tender spot where the elbow bent. It felt warm and grainy and left me totally unprepared for what followed next. His lips closed in on the tip of my left breast, sucking slowly through thin, wet cloth, the warmth of his lips a definite contrast against the coldness of the fabric covering my nipple. Soon it all melted into a heated throb of pleasure as my breast responded to the teasing and blood rushed to answer. Involuntarily, I parted my mouth and moaned, only to be silenced by his firm finger on my parted lips.

  I licked his fingertip lightly, tasting salt. I closed my lips around it, sucking deeper. As if on cue he bit the swollen tip of my breast and dipped a finger under my bikini bottom, stroking through my wetness ever so slowly. So entwined in the heated pleasure building up I barely heard him whisper, “Look at you.”

  My eyes slit open, and I was suddenly blinded by the intense sunlight. Tears streamed down as I made an effort to adjust my eyes to the brightness. Gabe stretched next to me, supporting my head in the bend of his elbow while his other hand disappeared under the triangle of my bikini bottom. The veins streaking his wrist moved with the rhythm of his fingers stroking me until, almost hypnotized, I arched my hips to meet his touch. Quickening the pace, I rubbed myself against his finger, climbing, building up. I held my breath and covered his hand with mine, pushing his fingers to thicken the intensity of my rising climax. When light burst all around me, I threw my head backwards and called his name, breathless.

  His mouth plunged into mine, feeding off the ecstasy I was exhaling.

  I held on to him as my breath calmed.

  *

  Much later a shift in the breeze and lengthening shadows told us it was time to head back.

  We packed our stuff and drove back home. Gabe fell into a silent mood, not much different than mine. We gnawed at the same thought: his plane left in less than four hours.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked, sounding like my mother. Food: her universal answer to every ailment.

  “No, luv. Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll want anything before I go.”

  His preoccupied look told me he was already distancing himself. I recognized that look. It appears on my own features on the threshold of every imminent departure. Half the mind is already there at the destination.

  I left him to finish with his luggage and jumped in the shower to wash away the salty patina the ocean foam had left on me. My skin came alive under the invigorating shower jet. A slight sunburn blushed between my breasts, and I took care not to scrub myself too harshly. I was about to suds up my hair when the bathroom door opened, and Gabe asked if I would mind if he joined me. I slid my hand past the shower door and beckoned him with a crooked finger. Without words I handed him the shampoo and turned so he could wash my hair. I closed my eyes and relaxed. His hands worked the scented shampoo into lather; his strong fingers massaged my scalp soothingly, relaxing me. He turned me to face him. My body pressed against his while both his hands worked slowly through my hair. He cupped my face and bent to kiss me, getting his own hair all wet. I took the bottle of shampoo and, just as silently, washed his hair, combing my fingers through its smooth silkiness, wiping his eyebrow of lather. I caught his eyes watching me. I returned his stare until he closed his eyes. He threw his head back under the shower jet, rinsing off the shampoo. I watched, mesmerized; the streaks of foam ran along his wet body, tracing every muscle, defining his shape only to disappear finally down the drain. I pressed myself against him and felt his hands wrap around me, holding me tight. Water drenched us. It cleansed us, drowning the world outside.

  We took turns drying each other. Our mood shifted; this was our last chance to imprint our memories, like reading a classical poem for the very first time, absorbing every profound line.

  Wrapped in towels, we walked back into the bedroom hand in hand. There we sat on the bed with his bag nearby, a symbol, an arrow aloft, a separation foretold. I closed my eyes, rested my head against his chest, and tried to forget about time.

  “Luv, we need to get going.”

  “OK.” Mechanically, I walked to the closet and found a dress to wear. As if on autopilot, I grabbed panties, a bra, and sandals and got dressed.

  He wore a black T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. He’d gotten so tanned in such a few days it was amazing. Then I caught my own reflection in the mirror and noticed I was just as dark. I managed to manifest a smile, a rainbow during a downpour. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll get the keys.” I reached for my bag, turned, and realized I was alone. “Gabe?” I called.

  No answer.

  My heart stopped, and for an instant I wondered if I might have dreamt the whole week with him.

  I blinked. And stood there, incapable. I found myself devoid of will, vaguely aware of missing something but for the love of God couldn’t recall what.

  As if awaking from a coma, with inadequate control of my limbs, hoping my brain functions would eventually kick into gear and follow, I walked into the living room where silence met me.

  Then the sliding door’s drapes swelled in the light breeze, and I saw him out on the deck. His bag lay abandoned on the sofa.

  I walked to the door and saw that he had Peridot in his arms. He was quietly whispering something that my cat must have found seriously interesting. Peridot was all ears.

  “. . . Roight, mate?”

  Peridot nodded, blinked agreement, and then turned, giving me away. His pupils shifted from perfect rounds to pinhead-size.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. They both looked like I had interrupted some sort of male-bonding moment.

  “Just telling him to take care of you while I’m gone,” Gabe said, handing me my cat. Peridot looked at me with new interest, as if suddenly I had turned into a precious commodity he’d never considered of value before.

  “Thanks.”

  We made one last pass to make sure Gabe had packed everything, and we drove to the airport.

  We had just enough time to park and check in before it was time for him to board.

  My eyes finally lost the battle. Tears welled up and spilled down my cheeks. Everything blurred. Gabe looked at me and his smile quivered. He hugged me for the longest time and kissed me deeply. How can the body produce so much water? I wondered with streaks of tears streaming down my face.

  I couldn’t see the end of it. No matter how hard I tried to stop crying, I could only sob uncontrollably. I clawed the stretchy cotton of his T-shirt and dug my nails into his back. Pain and tears mixed into a mushy whirl, quickly draining me. Madonna Santa, why does it have to hurt so much?

  “This is the last time I leave you behind, Porzia.” With the tips of his fingers he wiped my tears. “There is no way in hell I’m going to see you like this ever again.” His eyes told me he meant it.

  I looked at him, trying to smile. “I know. It hurts too much.”<
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  “Come and see me when you get back from Oregon, and we’ll work it out,” he said.

  “OK. Call me when you get home.” I choked on my own sorrow.

  “I love you, Porzia.”

  “I love you.”

  He looked at me for one last second and walked away. The connecting tunnel swallowed up his form as the echo of the last boarding call faded into silence.

  Motionless, I sat on one of those absolutely hideous airport chairs and watched his plane take off. A fist squeezed my heart until I physically cringed and gasped for air.

  *

  I slammed into darkness outside the airport. My eyes had puffed up so badly with all the crying that I could barely keep them open, and I was so out of it that I ended up driving away without my headlights on until I registered the oncoming cars’ warnings, flashing theirs repeatedly at me.

  Once home I parked and leaned my forehead on the steering wheel. It vibrated with the engine buzz. I reached for the keys, switched the car off, and closed my fist around the dice. I hoped my heart would shut off, too, but no such luck. It still hurt infernally.

  Outside, barely visible by the light of a rising moon, the oleander stood; a dark silhouette against the night sky. I reached to touch the smooth trunk and told him quietly to give me the strength to walk upstairs into a silent house. I felt the urge to cry again, so strong it made me queasy. Holding a hand over my mouth I hurried upstairs to open the front door. I scooped Peridot up in my arms, kicked the door shut, stepped out of my sandals, and ran barefooted to my bedroom. I collapsed on the bed and cried myself stupid against my pillow until it turned into a mushy mess. I rolled my head onto the other pillow. My heart stilled as I inhaled Gabe’s scent lingering on the soft pillowcase. I buried my nose, breathing deeply, worrying if I took it all in at once it might not last. The thought caused another rush of tears to sting my already burning eyes.

  Peridot settled himself at my feet, purring.

  I pulled the dress over my head. Bra and panties followed, randomly hitting the floor in the darkness. Naked, I hugged the pillow and tried to focus my breath, to empty my mind, and to shut down my heart. I didn’t even bother to slide under the sheets. It took just about an eternity but I slowly calmed down and finally drifted into sleep thinking how blessed I was to have an entire night in front of me while Gabe had to endure a sleepless journey all the way back to Australia. Tonight . . .

  *

  I floated into darkness. Eerie. That’s how I felt.

  Warm ocean waves engulfed and lulled my body. All around me the waters met a black sky sprayed with stars that sparkled and randomly winked at me.

  The warm water soothed and dulled my senses, making me believe that everything would be alright. I immersed my entire body underwater; I remember thinking that’s how opium ought to feel.

  Then the waters turned into sand and I struggled to free myself.

  With conscious effort, I walked to shore where I felt warm and comfortable. I turned to look at the wide reach of dark sand, not quite believing that a few seconds earlier it had been an ocean supporting me as I floated. Incredibly, the sand still moved in slow, relentless waves as if it believed itself to be water. It inhaled and exhaled each breath slowly, following the ancient rhythm of waxing and waning tides.

  No moon shone above me, and the weak twinkling of stars was no help in casting light to penetrate such darkness.

  Suddenly, without a warning, Gabe stood right next to me. With my heart welled up with joy, I reached out to him, but before I could say anything he walked into the sand until I could see him no more, and my heart told me he was gone forever.

  Just as despair took over and pain burst to light the sky, a powerful, dark figure separated from the darkness. Far in the distance, as far as where the stars met the horizon, the figure grew, barely distinguishable, yet solid.

  The sand shifted back to water, shyly lapping at my toes. I was sinking in wet sand.

  Xavier walked up to me. He smiled and handed me one single die. One.

  *

  I awoke from the dream parched, my throat so dry all I could think of was water and how much I wanted to drink some. I reached for the glass I usually keep on my nightstand and remembered the way I had fallen hastily asleep. I swung my legs off the bed thinking I might land on sand. Relieved that my toes found hardwood floors instead, I groggily got up, walked to the kitchen, and poured a cold glass of water. I gulped it down without breathing, then poured another and drank it more slowly, down to the last drop.

  I walked to the bathroom and washed my face in the darkness. I pressed a towel against my cheeks, went back to the bedroom, and crawled back into bed. I begged for no more dreams. No more heartache.

  Peridot snuggled against my back. I rolled on my stomach to pet him and asked him quietly if he missed Gabe too. He didn’t answer; he just settled against my hand and resumed his purring.

  I laid there in the darkness, hoping to fall asleep right away. My mind whirred with everything that had happened to me in the past few weeks instead. From a normal life of work, friends, and family, I was now soul-deep in esoteric mysteries, true love, and unknown paths. Worst of all, I seemed to have no control whatsoever over any of it. My past life regression under Evalena’s guidance seemed to be the catalyst unleashing all these forces. Even my work seemed to be part of the conspiracy. From Madame Framboise’s tarot reading to Delilah’s voodoo issues, the strange forces were coming out of the woodwork. Then Evalena tapped into Gabe’s secret and who knows what else was to come? I wondered if Oregon would be full of clues or simply generate other mysteries.

  Of one thing I was irrefutably certain: This treasure hunt had my attention.

  So, what was my inner intuition telling me this time?

  In the darkness of my bedroom, with Peridot breathing next to me and Gabe up above, flying farther and farther away with each passing second, I thought of rivers of tears running to become ocean. I rubbed my eyes. There would be no more crying, I decided. It was time to set things straight and put an end to all this nonsense.

  CHAPTER 27

  “Warrawarra,” Evalena stated flatly, making an impressive job of rolling R’s and pouring coffee simultaneously. She took a look at me. I had shown up at her door unexpectedly—well, sort of, since she always knows anyway—earlier that morning. I had barely managed to take a shower and put on some jogging clothes and sneakers. I had tied my wet hair into a braid, hidden it under a ball cap, glanced one more time at the phone, wondering where Gabe could be at the moment, and rushed out the door in search of answers.

  The fact that coffee came with Evalena’s advice was a pleasant extra bonus. I scooped three teaspoons of sugar and added cream to my cup. “You were saying?” I asked her, bringing the cup up to my lips.

  My question seemed to startle her back into the now and she shook her head. “Yes, I was saying . . . A warrawarra or nurrullurrulla is an Aboriginal witch doctor, perhaps a shaman or medicine man. I’m sure you’ve heard of Aboriginal people going on their merry ways with life, having a family, a career, an established routine, and all of a sudden, poof! They’re walkabout.” She stared at me as if she was about to wander off herself.

  I had heard of that happening and nodded at her.

  “Well, this walkabout practice seems to go a lot deeper than what white folks think. It’s a matter of following ageless spoken and unspoken traditions and about being in tune with ancestral patterns enough to be able to hear them calling when the need arises. Some shamans are known to borrow the spirit of an animal to travel.”

  “How do you know all this?” I asked, frowning.

  “I just do. The terms I am using are from the Kaurna people language, so I am not sure I am giving the due respect here. But trust me on this one.”

  Her words held that certainty I wasn’t about to stupidly slam against once again. “OK.�
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  “Your man seemed to have some sort of extreme bond with one such spiritual figure. There goes your connection between the Two of Cups and the Magician.”

  “What?” I wondered if Gabe was going to go walkabout on me, just like that.

  “You know I have this gift of being able to tap into energy fields and auras, Porzia,” Evalena reminded me.

  I nodded, sipping my coffee silently. This I could do. Coffee I knew how to handle.

  “Well, the night you two came over for supper, I tapped lightly and—I must add—involuntarily, into such a connection and found a strong resistance. It wasn’t only emotional but also impressively physical. Gabe is not Aboriginal, but he has been exposed to their traditions and he has an undeniable bond with one of their powerful warrawarra. I didn’t register anything negative about this bond, but Gabe has been given a second chance at life and someone is working hard at making sure he’s breathing.” Evalena stopped, lost in thought again.

  “And?”

  “And nothing.” She shook her head. “I’ve told you everything I sensed. Gabe is the only one that could explain more, but I have the feeling he has exposed himself to you because he wants you to understand. He loves you. But I have reservations regarding—”

  I interrupted her. “You know he loves me?” I asked, stunned.

  “Yes.”

  “It has to do with his accident,” I said almost to myself.

  Evalena just nodded silently.

  I had one more question to ask but, as usual, she was prepared.

  “I don’t know the answer to that one, Porzia, honey. We spoke about it when I brought you back from the past life regression. Only you can answer that. Only you can recognize him for whom he really is. But, as I was saying, I do have reservations.”

  I blinked tears away. All of a sudden, no amount of sugar in my coffee was going to sweeten the bitterness I felt.

  “What if I can’t distinguish between the feelings of recognizing him to be the true one and wanting him to be it so bad I’ll trick myself into believing it?” My own words frightened me.