"You really think so?"
Grabbing the ends of her shawl, she twisted the fringe between her fingers. "What I think is that I know nothing about you, and you seem to know everything about me. You even know my thoughts. Kind of seems a bit unfair, don't you think?"
"And even though I said I wasn't keeping score on anything, you calculated it would be fair to follow me tonight, is that it?"
"Well, no…" She thought about it for a few seconds. "I told you I wanted to know who—I mean what drew you away from the house every night." That was a close one.
Again he chuckled. "You are very funny, Señorita Casey O'Reilly."
"Well, I'm so glad I amuse you," she answered, not quite sure what he was finding so humorous.
"You wanted to know if I was seeing a woman."
Jeez… to have him say it, like it was some kind of joke, didn't make the shame of the reality seem any better. "All right… so I was curious."
"Would you be disappointed if I told you it was a female that draws me away every night?"
Her mind was racing. What did that mean? "A female?"
"The good sisters are devoted to the Madonna. It is her praises they will sing in their choir loft. So I do this for them."
She watched as he bent over the trough of liquid and began applying pressure to the wood. "You do this for… for nuns?"
"Have you ever heard women singing?"
Confused, she tried to make her mind function. "I don't get it. You are building this to hear women sing? That's why you come here every night?"
"I do it for a few reasons. That's one of them. As I have already mentioned… it is female energy that causes me to leave Don Felipe's every night."
"Could you just stop being so cryptic?" she asked, trying to keep the desperation from her voice. Her heart was telling her there was something else besides the good sisters that was the source of all this.
His voice, when he spoke, was barely audible and she had to strain to hear him.
"I also do it to provide an outlet."
"For what?" she whispered, coming closer to his back. She could see him shaking his head.
"Must I say this even more plainly?"
"Obviously you must, since I'm still confused."
He looked over his shoulder at her. "Okay, I'll tell you." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I do it to get away from you," he exhaled with resignation.
"From me?" She hoped her shock wasn't apparent in her voice.
"You." Abruptly he turned around to her and wiped his hands on his baggy pant legs. "All right, let's have this discussion. It's been coming and I suppose we've both been avoiding it."
"This doesn't sound promising," she muttered, and was shocked that her words were audible. Shrugging, she said, "You probably already know what I'm thinking, don't you?"
Shaking his head again, Luke said, "Casey, I will admit there is something, some attraction taking place, yet I don't think it would be a very good idea to pursue it. Not for me, and especially not for you."
Yes! There was an attraction!
Feeling so much better now that he had admitted it, Casey boldly came forward. Placing her hands on her hips, she asked, "Oh, so now you're making decisions for me? What about all these choices you love to talk about? Don't you think who I am attracted to and when that happens is my decision?"
"I was afraid of this." He grabbed a cloth and wiped his hands more thoroughly. "Now I see how you take my words and give them back to me, yet you must believe me, it is you I am more concerned about." He stared into her eyes. "I am not like most men, Casey."
There was an almost pleading look, as though he was asking her to back away. A part of her wanted to; another, stronger part wanted to close the space between them and cradle his cheek in her palm. She decided to compromise.
She took a few steps forward and leaned her hand on a barrel for support. "And you think I don't know that, Luke? You've been blowing my mind ever since you walked out of that lightning. How could I not be attracted to you?"
"Casey, you don't understand…"
"Then tell me," she said in a firm voice. "I'm risking everything by being here. I've never done this before and it's like standing completely naked in front of someone. I'm not used to exposing myself to this degree of vulnerability. So tell me, Luke. Help me to understand why you are not like most men."
His expression appeared to be strained, as though he knew his own moment of truth was fast approaching. No longer could he put her off with evasive answers, and Casey realized he was struggling inside.
"It is a strange life I live," he began, throwing the cloth onto the worktable. He suddenly looked at her and said in a direct voice, "And I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Are you saying that this… this attraction between us would threaten your way of life?"
"I am saying that it would change my life and alter yours in ways you can't even begin to imagine right now. I'm not afraid, Casey. I just know what I want and what I don't want."
"And you don't want me?" There, she had said it. You couldn't get much more naked than this!
He groaned and turned back to the vat filled with wood. "When I said I wasn't like most men, I didn't mean I didn't want you. It is best that I don't have you."
He began working the wood, and she lifted herself on top of the barrel to sit. This conversation was getting better all the time. He wanted her! "How are you different from most men then? You are human, aren't you?"
He nodded. "I'm human," he whispered. "And… something more."
She sat frozen, staring at the back of his head, not quite believing what she was hearing. "Something more?" She held her breath.
"It's the part that's hard to explain," he muttered, and she watched as the muscles in his back strained with the pressure he was applying to the wood. "It's been labeled many things, and when the time is right I hope I'll be able to explain it to you and you'll understand. Right now you'll just have to take my word for it."
"Are you some kind of holy man, sworn to celibacy?" Please, please say no!
" 'Holy' is another label, Casey. I don't consider myself to be holy, at least if you spell that word with an h. Now, if you meant it as 'whole,' with a w, well, that's a bit closer to the truth."
"I don't understand! What is it about you… ?" The words, laced with frustration, popped out of her mouth. Again she found herself twirling the fringe of the shawl more tightly between her fingers.
He stopped working, his head bent over his creation.
"I don't know what to think anymore," she blurted as a few threads came loose from the fabric she was pulling on. "You certainly aren't like most men I've ever known or even heard about."
"I'm like you, Casey, just—"
"I know. We've covered that already," she interrupted. "We're both time travelers. What else can you add to the story?"
He laughed, as though caught. "What do you know about time?"
Casey dropped the threads she'd inadvertently yanked from the shawl and watched them fall slowly to the floor. "Time? It's… it's just there. It measures everything, I guess."
"You're right, it does seem just to be there, doesn't it? Yet your perception of it can change if you're having a tooth pulled or working a job you can't stand. It can seem to drag on endlessly. How many people do you know who have wanted to escape time?"
It was her turn to laugh, breaking the tension. "Millions, myself included."
Nodding, he resumed working on the wood. "But what happens when you're enjoying yourself? Time passes more quickly. So what's the trick then?"
She thought about it. "To enjoy life more? That's the way to escape time?"
He looked over his shoulder. "Very good, Casey."
She slipped off the barrel and walked up to him. "And since we're time travelers, our mission, should we choose to accept it, is to have a good time?" She burst out laughing.
"That's about it," he said with a grin. "By a 'good time,' I would mean not resisting
where you are and what you're doing. You're doing it all for a reason, so accept the reason and—"
"Wait, wait," she interrupted again, watching his strong hands tightening the vise that was twisting the dark wood beam. "So if we're time travelers who are supposed to enjoy the time we find ourselves in, why are you fighting the attraction you have in this moment?" Wow, she was impressed with herself for coming back with that one!
He laughed and looked to her with affection. "You're a very good student, Casey O'Reilly. Somehow I knew you would be an even better teacher."
Oh, so now she was the teacher, eh? Well, she had a few lessons up her sleeve she would love to use. "You didn't answer me, Luke." "I didn't because I am making a choice." "Hmm, a choice, huh? Is that why you are working here, to make time, the night, pass more quickly? Perhaps you might rethink your choice, Luke." Wow, she had never been the pursuer, but this role wasn't bad at all.
"You think I haven't been rehashing it every night and nearly every moment I am here?" His words were low and hoarse, filled with what sounded like torment.
"Why not end it then? Why not just turn to me and let time take care of itself?"
He stood up straight and stared at her. His hands were dripping and he wiped them on his pants before grasping her. "You are a temptation, Casey," he muttered, tightening his strong hands around her waist and pulling her closer.
Pressed against his body, Casey didn't say a word as she stared into the depths of his dark eyes. There was an intensity there that she hadn't seen before. It was as though he were penetrating her very soul, searching within her and finding a key that ignited her senses. His hot breath flamed her resolve and she leaned even closer. Her breasts began aching in rhythm to the pounding of his heart as she felt his frustration and his yearning battling with each other. And she felt something else… his desire between them, betraying him and thrilling her.
"Well, Luke?" she whispered, knowing at any moment he was going to kiss her.
A near growl escaped his lips as he tightened his grasp on her waist even more and, without warning, abruptly picked her up and plopped her back onto the barrel.
"Argg… There. It's much better when you are over here."
She couldn't help it. She sighed loudly with her own unfulfilled desires. "You're a prisoner of time here in this workshop, aren't you, Luke? If you keep busy enough, you won't have to think about this attraction. Why is it you still dance with me, then?"
"I dance with you because I enjoy it so much." He quickly turned back to the wood.
Casey was glad, because now she simply couldn't hide her grin.
"Okay, so do I," she conceded with a giggle of triumph. She'd applied enough pressure for one night, and to have his admittance was a great first venture in being the pursuer. "Since you don't want to talk about yourself right now, tell me about this staircase. Sister Bernardina knows you're building it, but no one else?"
Nodding, he said, "She gave me use of this space and has promised to keep my secret. Now I must ask the same from you."
"Sure. I won't tell anyone." That was easy enough. "So have you ever done this before? Built a staircase?"
He paused, as though thinking of something private. "I guess I have been building them for a very long time. This one will be in the shape of a double helix. When you saw my sketch, did it remind you of anything?"
Casey glanced at the curling paper on the worktable. It was too far away now for her to see clearly, but it did seem vaguely familiar. "I don't know what it is, but it does remind me of something I've seen before."
"DNA?"
Immediately she saw it in her mind and said, "Yes, that's it. Pictures I've seen of DNA. That spiral. You said time was like that…"
"Yes. I thought it would be an appropriate way for a time traveler to leave his mark on a chapel."
"I appreciate the irony, Luke."
He looked over his shoulder at her and smiled with genuine warmth. "Thank you. Somehow I knew you would."
DNA. Uniting of the life force. Multiplication of cells…
Her purpose for being here came to the forefront. What if he already knew about it? He seemed to know everything she was thinking anyway. What if he knew she wanted him to share his genes and help create a child?
Yikes…
Twelve
"What is troubling you now?"
She was startled from her thoughts and, after taking a deep breath, said, "Maybe we could have that talk now about great unions producing happy children."
"You want to talk about it now?"
She nodded. "Why not? That is, if you don't mind talking while you're working. If you'd rather I leave, I will."
"No, you can stay. Actually I find I'm enjoying working with you here."
"Okay, I will," she pronounced. She ran her fingers across the edge of the old wooden barrel. "So what's your take on this unions-and-happy-children thing?" This was going better than she could have ever hoped. He was attracted to her and now they were going to talk about children.
She watched him shrug and then continue with his work, saying, "I am not a parent, but as an observer I can see that children sometimes pay the price for their parents' haste."
"Haste?"
"The rushing into parenthood, without first cleaning up or growing up, or whatever one wants to label becoming responsible. I wish women, especially young women, could clearly understand what they are taking on when they make love to a man."
This was coming from a man?
Stunned, Casey whispered, "Go on…"
"Women are receivers, wondrous receivers… and what they receive from a male is more than they realize. In union, along with the physical comes everything else the man hasn't resolved yet in his life. All the frustration, anger, stagnation, fear of intimacy beyond the physical joining, come along with him. Most young women are resolving those same issues, and when a young girl becomes pregnant by someone who is looking for nothing more than the physical, she's hit with a double zap of low-frequency energy. Hers and his… and those two have just created a third. Sounds to me like a perfect setup for a challenging life."
"Doesn't it work the same way with men if they are intimate with a woman who hasn't resolved those issues?" She was thinking of herself and why Luke might not want to take this attraction any further. It was starting to make sense and it scared her.
"Of course it does. But men don't become pregnant, which makes it easier for a man to walk away. Most of the time he doesn't realize what he's walking away with. The energy exchange has already taken place."
"What energy exchange? You mean love?"
"Hopefully that's a big part of it, but it goes beyond the seen. What do you know about electricity?"
She glanced at the oil lantern. "It hasn't been invented yet?"
"Electricity has always been a part of this planet, Casey. Think of lightning. The air is like an insulator between the clouds and the earth. The difference in the electrical state between earth and clouds builds up until it becomes so great that it isn't enough to keep both apart, and in one explosive burst, the electricity discharges across the barrier. Perhaps in this time where we find ourselves, the potential for conventional uses of electricity hasn't been discovered yet, but no human invented electricity. What do you know about the properties of it?"
"Electricity?" Her shoulders sagged. What did she know? She'd just taken it for granted that if she threw a switch, light appeared. "Not much. I'm… ah, not very scientific." In truth, the subject of science had never appealed to her.
"Would you like to know?"
Honestly she would rather get back to him being attracted to her and wanting her and the possibilities and properties of that, but since she had changed the subject for his sake, she'd go along. Besides, she had a feeling somehow all this was interrelated, that this science was a part of him. Because she wanted to know everything about him that she could, Casey said, "Okay, but you're going to have to bring it down to a Sesame Street level for me."
He laughed. "You understand more than you give yourself credit for, Casey. You know that your brain sends out electrical impulses and makes connections. You know that your heartbeat is an electrical pulse. Electricity is a part of being human."
"It is?" She thought about it for a moment. "Okay, I guess it is. I was thinking this was going to be more scientific, but so far I'm with you."
"Good," he muttered, applying more pressure to the beam. She couldn't see too much from behind him, yet she could make out the muscles of his back straining. "Think of yourself as a battery, charged particles with electrodes and conductors. Electricity flows with discharges from one place to another place. The same principles that apply to the scientific study of electricity can be applied to you as a human being, for that's what you are… a marvelous electrical source. You are discharging electricity all the time and you're not even aware of it."
"I am?" Well, she sure had some impulses of electricity discharging from her right now that she hoped he could pick up.
"You are. You give off negative charges to the ethers and—"
"Negative?" she interrupted. What she was feeling couldn't be termed negative.
"Negative and positive are just labels, arbitrary words to identify electrons and protons. The protons that make up the nucleus of every atom have a positive electric charge. The electrons that surround the nucleus have a negative charge. Scientists could have easily called them anything. Don't get stuck on labels."
"Okay," she answered, hoping she would be able to understand this. "I'm a marvelous electrical source that gives off negative charges. Got it."
"After a while all your negative charges will be discharged and you won't have any energy left. You'll be diluted, so to speak. That is the point when you need to be recharged again."
Oh, she liked where this was leading. Recharging sounded just fine to her. "How does one recharge?"
"First you need to understand discharging. When you discharge energy, it goes through some sort of conduit. When you recharge, all you're doing is forcing electrons back into yourself through the same conduit. Then you're charged again. It's important to remember when you discharge, you do it through something. It's not… random. It actually has focus. It can be through a fingertip, an eye, a thought, an action, but it manifests itself through some conduit. To get that charge back, you have to bring it through the same conduit, otherwise it doesn't work."
Heaven On Earth Page 19
