“See?” He whispered. “I wanted to show you earlier, but I didn’t have the chance.”
Julia inhaled a sharp breath as the light played on the freshly painted wooden door frame. A tiny arched doorway trimmed in red paint with little slatted doors on brass hinges was situated at the bottom of the door frame. A tiny welcome mat lay in front of the miniature door and a little brass mailbox was attached to one side. Dollhouse sized potted plants flanked the welcome matt. They held Spanish moss sprigs and dried heather.
“It’s precious!” Julia clamped her hand over her mouth. “Do you think they are at home?”
“Who?” Louis asked in alarm thinking she meant the Aligers.
“The mices, Silly,” she whispered and giggled again.
“Well, of course not,” he told her. “It’s a beautiful moonlight night. They are prob’ly out dancin’ somewhere.”
He led her back down the stairs and the mouse stuck his nose out the wee doors to snuffle the air suspiciously. Julia turned to hug Louis at the foot of the stairs.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” she said in his ear.
“What does?” He asked.
“Dancing in the moonlight,” she said and took him by the hand to lead him into the street.
“Look.” Perry pulled back the drapes from one of the tall windows flanking the front door.
“What are they doing?” Angelica frowned down at the sight of Louis and Julia in the street below.
“Dancing,” he told her and let go of the drapery. “Like so.”
He took her hand in his and wrapped his other arm around her waist.
Angelica allowed him to demonstrate the technique by dancing her into the living room. She followed his lead very well even though they danced without music.
“What is the significance of this activity?” She asked.
“There is usually a musical accompaniment as you know,” he told her. “You realize that we are going to a public dance on Saturday?”
“Yes. I have knowledge of this activity even though I have never engaged in it before. I do not understand the significance of it.”
He held her close, but not too close and he could sense the tension in her body as he pushed and pulled her gently around the room to a rhythm heard only in his head. “It seems somewhat similar to other forms of sensual contact.”
“You mean like kissing? Holding hands? That sort of thing?” He smiled to himself.
“Yes,” she nodded.
“Almost exactly the same,” he told her knowing full well what would happen.
She let go of his hand and stepped back immediately.
“Then it serves no useful purpose for our study. I have observed these gatherings before and I have noticed that it is not mandatory to participate. We will be present for appearance’s sake, but we will not engage in the activities. I would rather go to bed now and risk experiencing more nightmares. I am interested in considering your summation concerning the purpose and origins of the dream state. I want to investigate your theory and explore the possibility of a connection between the soul and dream states. I would like to test some of my theories against yours.”
“Life is just a dream,” he told her as she walked away from him. “Will you dream of... me, Angelica?”
She stopped at the door to the bedroom and turned to look back down the hall at him. “I doubt it. I haven’t so far.”
Perry waited until she disappeared into the bedroom before going to the alcove overlooking Main Street. He knew that Julia and Louis were still enjoying themselves on Catherine Street and did not want to chance interfering with their revelry. He unlatched the windows and pushed them outwards to allow the cool night air to rush inside and stood looking up at the few stars he could see beyond the street light’s glare.
“I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly because you tread on my dreams,” he quoted one of his favorite sayings quietly and made a sweeping gesture with his right hand. A stream of tiny flickering lights drifted down from the window to the street and then spread out across downtown Magnolia Springs. They spilled around the building and enveloped the dancing couple in a swirling spiral before traveling on down the street and up toward the full moon.
“Look Louis!” Julia stopped to stare after them. “Fireflies!”
Chapter Fifteen:.
Louis left Julia sleeping and went directly to the dispatcher’s desk at the station. He gave the officer on duty the plate number from the gray Mercedes Benz and headed back down to the Officer’s Lounge to grab a cup of coffee. He picked up his mail, checked in with the Shift Supervisor and went back to the dispatcher’s desk to wait impatiently for the report to print out on the electronic dinosaur. It was a shame, he thought, that the Magnolia Springs Police Department couldn’t afford to update its equipment. When the report came through, he stepped past the officer, ignoring his disdainful look to tear the printed report from the machine. He stuffed it into his pocket and went outside to his patrol car. Taking a deep breath, he willed himself to be calm and took his time inspecting his equipment, pre-tripping his vehicle, testing the radios and logging the mileage before sliding behind the wheel to drive down the street to the nearest convenience store parking lot.
He felt extremely guilty about using his authority to run Perry Aliger’s license plates. He had no legitimate reason for doing so other than a persistent feeling that something was not quite right about the man. Deep down, he knew that he was just trying to justify his own attraction to the man’s wife by finding something wrong with him. He even attributed Julia’s strange behavior to Perry’s influence, but nothing could erase his feeling of guilt. He had gone over every word he had exchanged with the man since he’d met him and could find nothing out of order other than the fact that he seemed somehow naive or, even worse, totally innocent.
Louis pulled the wrinkled printout from his pocket and smoothed it with one hand against his thigh. He laid it on the steering wheel in front of him and closed his eyes briefly before reading it. The Mercedes was registered to Peregrin Caelum Aliger. A strange name, he thought. The vital statistics followed. D.O.B.: 10-07-76, he was older than he looked; Height: 6’ 3”, he looked taller than he was; Eyes: Violet, so that’s what they were called; Hair: blonde, Louis had never trusted blonde men; Address: 1325 Highland Park Blvd., Houston, Texas. Houston! It figured. The most interesting piece of information on the sheet was the listed place of birth. Some unpronounceable place in China. There were no outstanding warrants. No criminal history. Nothing. Not even a parking ticket. If Perry Aliger was up to something, it had not caught up with him. The sudden notion that he should eat the printout made him laugh. He crammed it back in his pocket.
Louis got out of the car and ambled over to one of the only two pay phones left in town. He used his phone card to call long distance information. Within five minutes, he had the numbers of three Alex Graysons in Flagstaff, Arizona. The first number was a young man who hung up on him immediately. The second number had been disconnected. The third was answered by an elderly woman.
“Mrs. Alex Grayson?” He asked.
“Yes?”
“This is Louis Parks. Sergeant Parks of the Magnolia Springs Police Department. Do you remember me?”
“Yes, I remember you,” she said. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. Is Mr. Grayson at home?”
“He doesn’t talk on the phone. Can I help you?”
“Well, I was wondering if you all had sold your whole property to Mr. Aliger. I was kinda interested in the pecan orchard out back.”
“Oh, I see,” she sounded relieved. “I’m afraid that Mr. Aliger bought the whole place.”
“Oh, darn, I missed the boat,” he lied and felt even worse. What had he wanted? “How are ya’ll doin’ out there?”
“We’re just fine,” she told him. “It’s real nice. Dry weather.”
“That’s good. Well, I’ll let you get back to your privacy.”
“Oh, Mr. Parks?” She stopped him from hanging up. “Will you tell that nice young man, Mr. Aliger, the next time you see him, to send us that tea he promised. Tell him not to forget about us. He is such a fine young man.”
“Sure, no problem,” Louis grumbled and hung up the phone, staring at it dejectedly for several seconds.
He jammed his hands in his pockets and stalked back to his car. Tea again! What was it with this guy. Next thing he knew, everybody in Magnolia Springs would be tea addicts and Perry Green Kaylum Aliger would have his way with them all. It reminded him of the Twilight Zone and put him in mind of Mike Padgett’s seed-pod aliens. Perhaps it was just the too-good-to-be-true syndrome. He, Louis Parks, would not give up until he found the man’s fatal flaw. Everyone had one. The man was too nice, too handsome, too rich and too weird. Just too, too much. He slammed the car door ruthlessly in frustration and reached for his seatbelt.
Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about digging up the pecan orchard looking for the Graysons. Louis sighed. He might as well just admit that he had a foolish school-boy crush on Angelica Aliger and he just had to get over it.
“Where are you off to now?” Angelica did not look up from her box of teas and coffees as Perry passed by her on his way to the door.
“I’m going to drive over to Louis Parks’ house and check on Julia’s progress,” he told her. “I have to give her the Pandora Box we saved for her. Have you lost your memory?”
He was irritated beyond measure with Angelica. She had locked him out of their bedroom the night before and he’d spent a long night on the sofa. Did she mistrust him so much?
“I knew that,” she said looking up at him when he turned around. “I meant, where else are you going?”
“I’m going to the insurance office to make the down payment on the insurance,” he said holding up a brown envelope with the policy applications inside.
“Oh, I see.” She looked back down at the articles in the box. Her voice held a hint of accusation.
He decided to aggravate her since she had aggravated him so unexpectedly. She seemed to be a fast learner.
“Did you dream about me?” He asked and went back to lean against the side of the shelf she was stocking.
“As a matter of fact, I did,” she said simply and he changed his mind about leaving so soon. He crossed his arms over his chest waiting for more details, but none were forthcoming.
“Well?” He asked after a few moments.
“Well? What?” She glanced up at him.
“What did you dream?” He asked with the realization that she was deliberately toying with him. “What life did your soul live last night and what part did I play in it?”
“I believe you may have been right, Peregrin,” she said lightly. “Dreams may have nothing to do with the soul... at least not directly, as I had surmised.”
“So it was a nightmare?” He asked in surprise at her answer. It was the first time she had ever capitulated to him. “What did I do? I have the right to know.”
“Excuse me?” She almost smiled.
“I said...” he began and then took a deep breath before speaking more calmly. “I said I have the right to know what I did in your dream.”
“How did you come to that conclusion?” The amusement sparkled in her dark eyes.
“Tell me,” he said, matching her expression. “How do you feel when you dream?”
“What do you mean ‘feel’?” She asked with a quizzical look.
“I mean, do you feel real?” He expounded. “Or did you have one of those misty dreams wherein you have no substance and just seem to be drifting through some series of events in which you viewed everything from a third party perspective?”
“I felt... quite real,” she told him. “I played an active part, if that’s what you mean.”
“Did you touch me?” He asked, trying to turn the tables on her.
“Why?”
“I need to know. Yes or no?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Did I feel real as well?”
“Yes, you did.” She frowned. “What is the point?”
“If I was in your dream and I felt real, then I have the right to know what I did. I want to incorporate the experience into my memory so that I can study it in depth.”
“That’s ridiculous!” She blinked at him.
“It is not!” He exclaimed. “If you will tell me what I did in your dream, I’ll tell you about my dreams about you.”
“You dream of me?” She asked incredulously. “No, I do not want to know what you dream. I forbid you to tell me.”
“But I want to know. It could be very important.”
“Why?”
“You see things and you say ‘why?’ But I dream things that never were; and I say ‘why not?’” he countered with another one of his quotes.
“Why do you want me to know about your dreams today, when you refused to tell me about them last night?” She asked.
“Last night I would have done more than tell you about them,” he said. “But since you wish to remain clinical in your approach, I have decided to restrict myself to merely telling you about them. Why did you ask me what I dreamed last night and then, today, when I offer to tell you about them, you forbid me to tell you?”
“When I went to bed last night, I tried an experiment. I reflected upon what you had told me about your imagination as I allowed sleep to overtake me.” She paused to place another box of coffee on the shelf. “I considered your comparison of dreams and your imagination. I then tried to imagine what you would imagine. When I went to sleep, I dreamed some of the most appalling things. When I awoke this morning, I reflected on the content of the dreams. Naturally, I had to attribute them to your imagination and not mine. I have determined that dreams are irrelevant to our purpose. I also decided not to ask you about your dreams again because I am sure that your dreams would be even more appalling than my own.”
Perry pondered the meaning of her words. His imagination was certainly getting a workout this morning.
“In that case,” he said after a few minutes of watching her work “it would seem that since you attribute your dreams to my imagination, I have all the more right to know what you dreamed.”
Angelica raised her eyes slowly and smiled at him almost wickedly. He had never seen such a look on her face.
“Just use your imagination,” she said and picked up the empty box to carry it toward the back door leaving him speechless.
A small, involuntary whine escaped him and his shoulders fell as he stared after her. Perry could not believe what had happened. At first, he had been merely interested in aggravating her. Now he earnestly wanted to know what she had dreamed, but he knew she would never tell him willingly. His anger flared momentarily and he thought of forcing the issue, but that would not do at all. Perhaps never was too strong a word for the situation. He resigned himself to accepting the fact that she had dreamed about him and that whatever had transpired, it had to have been very interesting since he was in it. He was not used to having a request denied, but he also knew that a simple handshake would not be enough to make her tell him more. He felt his face grow warm and his hands were clammy. He pushed himself off the shelf and walked across the shop to look into an ornate mirror hanging on the wall above an antique wash basin. His cheeks were flushed a deep red. A new experience. Was this what the ladies felt when he shook their hands and spoke to them? He doubted it sincerely. Anger was extremely foreign and most unpleasant. He was angry with Angelica for the first time since he had met her. He willed himself to return to his normal state.
A few moments later, he found Angelica in back of the building stuffing boxes into the recycling dumpster.
“I’m leaving,” he told her shortly. “Don’t wait up.”
“What does that mean?” She paused to look at him.
“It means that one never knows what brave adventure lies beyond the door. It means that somewhere, just around the corner, I may fall int
o some evil from whence I may never return. It means that you may never see me again. It means that this could possibly be goodbye forever, sugar. So long, my love. Farewell, my turtle dove. Adios, me corozon and adieu!” He hitched up his belt slightly and popped the pleats in his expensively tailored slacks, turned on his heel to leave.
“Oh, well then vaya con dios, my darling,” she said and went back to work on the trash refusing to be taken in by his melodramatics. He stopped momentarily to look back at her, thinking she might really be concerned, but she did not look back at him.
Perry left her. He was experiencing another new sensation. Rejection.
He still felt the residual effects of the disturbing emotion as he sat at Julia Parks’ table watching her set a cup and saucer in front of him. They were on her screened back porch overlooking Louis’s neatly manicured yard.
“Blue Willow,” he said leaning forward to inspect the blue and white designs on the cup as she poured him a cup of tea.
“I hope I did this right.” She smiled somewhat nervously. It had shocked her to see him at her door. “Angelica showed me how to use the pellets, but this is my first attempt. My granny gave me those dishes when Louis and I got married. I don’t know how long she had them, but they are pretty old. I can tell you that. I’ve always loved them. I’ve added some pieces over the years. It seems like every time I look at them I see something new.”
Perry picked up his cup and set it to one side of the saucer. He tapped the design with one finger.
“Do you know the story the pictures tell?” He asked.
“No, but I’ve often wondered what it was about.” She sat across from him spooning sugar into her cup.
“This portrays a love story from ancient China,” he told her. “A beautiful young woman, the daughter of a wealthy man, fell in love with her father’s secretary. He was a poor, but brave and handsome fellow.” He showed her the pictures that corresponded to his words. “Her father found out and banned the young man from his house, but the young man was determined not to lose the love of his life and he kept in contact with her by floating messages and poems down the river to her in secrecy. See here?” He pointed at the river on the saucer. “This is the river under the bridge and this is her father’s home. Her father planned to have her marry a very wealthy, but very old man whom she did not love. At the betrothal party, her lover sneaked inside dressed as a beggar and rescued her from her father’s clutches. They fled across the bridge. There they are on the bridge. See?” He tapped the saucer and she leaned to look at it, mesmerized by the tale. “This is her father chasing them with a whip.”
The Pandora Effect Page 19
