"And that’s all?" asked the man. He didn't believe James—that fact was apparent to everyone.
James furrowed his brow before answering. He didn't like being accused of something, especially when he didn't know what that something was.
"Am I missing something here?" he asked in an attempt to confront the man before him.
"The doctors told me that she got meth from someone on the street. I just want to know if that was you."
"Thomas!" cried Mrs. Monroe.
James was incredulous, and the shock was apparent on his face.
"Teresa, stay out of this. I have a right to know if this is the man that caused this situation," Mr. Monroe stated. "Maybe he gave her the drugs and called the ambulance to save his reputation."
James angered slightly. He closed his position and spoke clearly and calmly. He didn't like hostile confrontations, but he had learned that sometimes they couldn’t be avoided. His attorney had also trained him to calmly nip these situations in the bud, ending them before they could start.
"I suggest you watch what you say, Mr. Monroe," James seethed. "I can appreciate the fact that you are concerned for your daughter, but what you’re accusing me of is very close to slander. I have a career to protect, and if you continue to make such flagrant accusations then you’ll receive a cease and desist letter from my attorney."
"I welcome it," the man said, holding his ground, "and you better pray your attorney is better than I am. I'm one of the best in Seattle."
The two men glared at each other before Teresa quickly stepped in. "Thomas, you need to apologize!" she said sternly.
No one spoke for a moment as silence held sway in the hallway. Mr. Monroe didn't apologize, but he did back down, if only slightly. He appeared to be disgusted and walked off down the hall, perhaps in search of coffee or a bathroom. He stopped near the end of the corridor, turned around as if to look at the artwork on the walls, and maintained visual contact with his wife and James. Teresa appeared embarrassed but maintained support of the man to whom she was married.
"I'm sorry for that, Mr. Connor, but perhaps you should go. When he gets like this he can be rather difficult."
James was insulted by the brush off, but he didn't want to argue the point.
"Is it alright if I say goodbye to Vera?" he asked, and then as he considered the situation he had to shrug his shoulders. "Truth be told, I've never really said hello."
Teresa thought about the request for a moment, looked down the hall to her husband, and then quickly nodded her head. She seemed to want to get the interaction over with.
James entered the room, and Vera looked up as he did. Anna was on the bed, snuggled up to her sister. The young girl must have brought a book and somehow convinced her sister to read it to her; it probably didn't take much convincing, judging by the look of affection between the two.
"I just wanted to say goodbye. I'm James Connor, by the way. I know we weren’t properly introduced, but I understand you’re Vera. Sorry we didn't meet under better circumstances.
"Oh, that's cool," Vera said, casually. "It's nice to meet you, too."
The violet eyes stared at him, and he stared back, getting lost in them as he did. Vera smiled broadly, seemingly fascinated by the man before her. Her head tilted one way and then another.
James thought about the patient that rested on the bed. He attempted a slight probe, and an image of the girl entered his mind. He had half expected his psychosis to do nothing, and half expected it to change the image before him into something else, perhaps a smurf or a dancing bear. Instead, his mind was whisked to a distant field and a set of toys.
He could feel an arousal of emotion as he watched Vera play with her sister in a park. She was pushing Anna on a swing, and the younger sister was asking to be pushed higher. Vera's hair was done nicely and her makeup was well applied; she was a very pretty young lady when she was properly dressed. He couldn’t help feeling those thoughts and emotions strongly as he watched the two siblings play within his mind's eye.
Within the hospital room, the emotions he perceived from Vera quickly changed from happiness, due to playing with her sister, to pleasure at being found attractive. James jerked back in shock from the vision, the feelings that it evoked, and the realization the Vera could sense his attraction to her well-dressed appearance. He blinked rapidly for a moment to clear his head. The reaction by Vera was much the same. She appeared confused and stammered something for a second, but no words came forth.
Embarrassed by his thoughts, James begged his leave. He wished Vera a speedy recovery, said good-bye to Anna, and left the room. As he left, he nodded to Mrs. Monroe and suffered through a glare from her husband, who had been standing at the door watching him carefully. The man had a very untrusting nature, and James didn't care for it.
Chapter 5
Music played through James' head as he slept. The melody was haunting, and he found himself transported along whatever meandering course it chose to take him. He soon came to realize that he was asleep, and with that realization his mind began to move towards a waking state. The music was unaffected by his stirring mind, and James concentrated on the notes in an effort to place the tune and ensure it didn't slip away.
As the melody continued, visions came to mind. He could see a woman's form far across a vast field of green. It danced and ran about merrily. The form then transported itself to a small group of people surrounding a fire while laughing and dancing to the same tune in his head; James followed along as best he could. Once again, the figure moved onward, stopping from time to time to share the music that seemed to flow from it. James pursued each time, attempting to discern a face. He couldn’t.
The music grew louder, and he thought that it would soon crescendo, but he was to be disappointed. Each time the music seemed about to peak, it dipped back down and moved off into a subtle variation. Its constant teasing frustrated the man attempting to pin it down.
It was several seconds before James realized that he was awake and still hearing music. He sat up and rubbed his temples. He concentrated on the music as it continued to increase in volume, almost as if the source were getting closer. It stopped suddenly, and James was left alone with nothing but the silence of his room.
He lifted his head and looked about himself. The master bedroom of his unit was spacious, and the entire outer wall was glass, much like his living room. When he chose to have the drapes open, as they were now, the architecture allowed him plenty of light from the city. Taking a deep breath, James shook his head and got up. It wasn’t too late—just after midnight—but he knew his mind wouldn't let him go back to sleep.
A knock caused his head to jerk up and his mind to respond by focusing his attention. He could have sworn that it was his front door, but he wasn’t expecting anyone and no one would have been allowed up to his unit without his permission. Thinking about what he had heard, he was at a loss. He listened again, straining to verify if he had heard anything at all. A moment later, a second knock could be heard.
Curious, he put on some pants and a shirt and made his way to the front entryway, turning on lights as he did. Without bothering to look through his peep hole, he opened the door and immediately became confused by what he saw. There was someone standing before him, innocent in expression but expectant all the same.
Neither person spoke as they looked at each other—they simply stared. James recognized the woman, of course, and he studied her carefully, even as she watched him with those unblinking eyes.
She still had her regal bearing, fine clothes, and jewelry that was tastefully worn; nothing too gaudy, but enough to accent her figure nicely. An odd thought came to mind as he realized that he must look like a mess.
The woman before him smiled suddenly, and her hand went to her mouth as she stifled a laugh. James' eyes widened for a moment when he realized the she had somehow known his thoughts.
"Not exactly," she said with minor amusement, "but, I do get impressions."
&nb
sp; James again said nothing, and she looked at him as he was trying to come to grips with the situation. A moment later, she decided to end the stalemate.
"You could invite a lady in," she said while still sporting a friendly smile.
James came to some semblance of hospitality, nodded his head, and turned sideways to allow entry.
"Of course," he said, "please." The request was followed by a welcoming gesture of his hand.
The woman nodded her head and walked past. She headed down the small entryway and into the open living room.
"Very nice," she said. "I imagine this place must have cost a small fortune."
"It will by the time it’s paid off," he replied. "Technically, the bank still owns it."
She smiled as she walked the room, looking at the odd pieces of art and from time to time enjoying the wondrous view of the city and its surroundings. She could see across the Sound and just below, on ground level, she could see a section of Post Alley and the market.
I shall have to stop there and watch them throw fish, she thought to herself. She had heard that the fish merchants threw the fish in order to fulfill orders, but as of yet she hadn’t made the time to witness the phenomenon.
James had felt the woman's thoughts as he watched her marveling at the view. It was an odd sensation for him, almost as if she were mentioning a whim while speaking to a dear friend. Curious, he began to wonder who she was and what she was doing here. He was about to ask her these exact questions when she turned to him.
"I believe you were about to freshen up," she said casually.
James could see the playfulness in her eyes; she was enjoying herself immensely, and he didn't know why. He thought about asking her, but decided to use her suggestion, and take care of his personal hygiene; the few hours of sleep he had been able to obtain had been enough to sour his mouth. Unsure what to say in response, he decided to say nothing, and just nodded his head in agreement. He then headed to his bathroom, leaving the woman to her own devices.
James quickly ran a brush through his hair, added some deodorant and a bit of cologne, and then set about brushing his teeth. He spit once, and before continuing, asked a question.
"How did you get all the way up to my apartment?" he asked, returning the brush to his mouth and continuing to clean as she replied.
"It was easy enough. The lobby door was opened, and I entered before it closed. The attendant even said hello to me, although he didn't question my presence in a secure building."
"And the elevator?" James asked as he spit again and moved to the mouthwash.
"Easy enough, I asked the attendant to swipe his badge and activate the floor I needed. He did so, then happily went back to his duties."
James re-entered the living room drying his hands on a towel as he did so. He tossed the towel onto his kitchen island.
"How did you do all of that?"
"You tell me, Oracle," she responded with a wry smile.
James eyed her carefully but said nothing. Another quiet moment was shared before he broke the silence and quietly asked, "Who are you?"
She nodded acknowledgment of the question but didn't immediately answer. Instead, she took another look at the room and thought about her response.
"My name is Arinai," she said after a moment of reverie, "and much like you, I have been endowed with certain gifts." She paused for another moment, then decided to get this over with in much the same way as one removes a band-aid: quickly.
"I was born in Europe approximately 1700 years ago, around the time of the fall of the Roman Empire. I don’t recall the exact area or even the year—it's been too long, and calendars weren’t at all common at that time. However, I would guess it was somewhere in the Germanic or Ukraine region around 250 A.D. As to the area, I can recall the Alps clearly in my memory. My people blessed those mountains that held back the Roman invasions; the Romans didn't care for the treacherous ground."
Arinai moved about the room as she spoke. "At the time of my birth, Rome had been falling for decades. Their troops were failing them, and their empire had been split into the east and west for bureaucratic reasons. That political decision hastened their decline. It was at this time that my people arose. We were called the Keltoi, which later became the Celts. Other names I'm sure you’re familiar with: the Germanic, the Druids, the Norse, the Pagans, and many others, but in essence we were a people with very different gods than the Romans. Not better or worse, just different, and for nearly a thousand years we thrived."
She paused for a moment and stared out the window. She appeared so calm and collected as she spoke that James had a hard time discerning the rationality of the scene before him with the story he was hearing. In appearance, Arinai was a visitor—a simple woman standing in his living room enjoying the view. In reality, she was adding to his psychosis with words of fancy.
"As we ruled, there were tough times, but there were also wondrous times. We had many of those. I can recall water nymphs dancing in the moonlight and villagers laughing and singing our songs. The druids were kind and wise, and our warriors were fierce. But Rome eventually began to rise again, and our people began to decline. The cycle of life continued on its way, oblivious to the people it affected," she spoke slowly as she mused over the last statement, before turning and walking about the apartment.
James wasn’t certain how to handle what he was hearing; to say he was skeptical was an understatement. He was wary of this woman who moved about the room, absently taking in his life from the various photographs and artwork. She stopped suddenly, turned to him, and smiled coyly.
"You don’t believe me?" she asked.
"I'm an atheist," was his only reply.
Arinai chuckled as she nodded her head with understanding. She eventually stopped laughing but kept her smile in place.
"So am I," was her mischievous reply.
Silently, they considered each other for a moment.
"I have lived on this world for a long time, and I have seen much. But for all I have seen I can’t claim an ultimate power or some mystical force beyond us all. There are things I can’t explain, and I'm sure you have similar challenges, but I do know what I have seen and experienced have had a very real impact on this world. Perhaps we will one day understand it, and maybe science will be able to explain it. For the moment, I can only offer empirical evidence."
James was curious by this comment and warily moved forward.
"What kind of empirical evidence?"
"I'm not sure," she said as she considered the notion. "But I'm certain we can find something." She smiled, and then a thought suddenly occurred to her. "How do you currently explain what is happening to you?" she asked.
"What do you mean by 'what is happening to me?'" he asked.
"I can feel your odd presence of mind, and I saw you last week at the blood pit. That was very interesting, by the way. It was certainly something that I have never seen before. These shadows that follow you are also something I have never witnessed. Do you know what they are?"
James didn't answer immediately; he didn't want to reveal too much. Arinai appeared to understand and waved off his reluctance. She laughed as she remembered something.
"That trick you played on me the other day was very mean of you. One moment we were staring at each other, and the next moment I couldn’t see you. Then a second later, I had forgotten where I was and what I was searching for. It took great concentration for me to come back to the moment and relocate you. How did you do that?" Arinai asked her question with sincerity born from kindness as well as curiosity. It was so politely asked that James found himself answering before he considered whether he should.
"I merely told you to ignore me," was his reply.
"And that was all it took?"
"Apparently."
"My, my, you are powerful," she said with admiration. "I believe that this will be a very interesting time for us. I have seen many spirits and demons and gods over the years, but we’ve never had an oracle."
"Why do you call me that?"
"It’s what you are," she said matter-of-factly. "I have that information on good authority."
She saddened for a moment as she spoke, and her eyes fell downward. She was morose over the fall of a comrade, a fellow god, and James could sense it, although he wasn’t exactly sure how.
"I thought you said you were an atheist," he commented. "What kinds of gods have you seen?"
She waved off the comment, unaware of the reasoning behind his question.
"Semantics," she said. "You and I would not consider them gods, just a powerful entity, but to primitive man, or those unwilling to question religion, the concept tends to remain the same."
James nodded his understanding of the answer to his question, and then asked another.
"What did you mean when you said that this will be an interesting time?"
Arinai smiled wickedly and moved to James' position. She had only been this close when she had passed him on her way into the apartment, but that proximity wasn’t as intimate as it was now. He could smell her perfume—Chanel No.5. It was unmistakable and remarkably common, and the irony of a supposed deity wearing such a banal scent didn't escape him.
She leaned in close to him. He felt only curiosity and wonderment as she answered the question.
"Once again, Rome is falling," she whispered to him.
For a moment, his mind became clear and several puzzle pieces fell into place. He was still skeptical, if not in total disbelief, but at least he understood all that she had told him. The fall of Rome had led to her coming to power, and Rome's rise had led to her decline. If Rome was once again falling, then logically her people could return to power. Much like the Republicans and Democrats, who were always in flux.
He thought for a moment about Rome and its current state of affairs. The Roman Catholic Church was indeed a formidable entity. It had a powerbase that stretched across borders and cultures, through familial loyalties, and into many state coffers. It took billions of tax-free dollars out of those countries every year and commanded a human following of massive proportions. It was also under worldwide assault by the media and a blasé attitude from a rapidly changing society. It was being hammered with stories of homosexual abuse, monetary irresponsibility, child molestation, and many other horrific deeds.
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