Butterfly Dreams (27)

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

They had died when helping thwart a plan to undermine the government of the United States. Now Ben and Susan have returned from the dead and they must bring that government down. Standing in their way are Michael Black and Michelle Gray, the bodies of whom they now occupy.

-(The Story begins HERE)-

Air Libido

I watched as she turned her attention back to the magazine in front of her. What was going on inside her head? What thoughts were there forming in her mind? Yet, I couldn't help but wonder, just whose mind was it?

For all the advancements in the study of the human mind, little was known of how the brain actually functioned. The fields of psychiatry and psychology were far from being exact sciences. Every human mind was different and unique. Each brain was a universe in its own right, its synaptic processes giving birth to millions of star-thoughts in an unexplored region of an inner space.

I was neither a psychiatrist nor a psychologist, but somehow I needed to get into her head. She looked like Susan Parsons and she sounded like Susan Parsons, but she was not the real Susan Parsons.

I glanced at the window overlooking the Boston skyline which was bathed in the pinkish glow of the setting sun. Michelle and Ben were out there somewhere. I wondered how she was dealing with the similar conundrum. She must have came to the same conclusion that Ben was not the real Ben Bering.

More so to break the pall of silence than to address the young woman I said aloud, "I have to call Michelle. I need to know where they are." When she didn't respond to my words I added, "Aren't you concerned about Ben?"

Without looking in my direction she replied, "No. If they were in trouble they would have tried to reach us."

"Yes ... if they are able to contact us ..." I let my words trail off as I crossed the room to retrieve the phone.

I was startled and by reflex almost dropped the phone as it rang at the same moment I touched it. I glanced at Susan and noticed that she was looking my way, a look of concern on her face.

Noting the caller ID screen I answered with frayed nerves, "Michelle! Where are you? Are you okay!"

"Am I okay? Am I okay? Are you okay?" she responded with a touch of anguish. "Why are you at the apartment? Why aren't you on the plane?"

"We didn't make it to Logan in time to catch the flight. The next flight isn't until nine tomorrow morning," I moaned. "I figured we'd all meet here until then."

"Oh, wonderful! If their intentions were to separate us, they've succeeded!"

"I don't like the sound of that," I gulped. "Wh ... where are you?"

There was a pregnant pause before she finally answered, "Cincinnati."

"Cincinnati?" I yelped. "How in the hell did you end up in Cincinnati?"

"We caught a flight out of the airport at Manchester, New Hampshire. There was no direct flight, so we grabbed one to Cincinnati with connections to Las Vegas. Unfortunately, we have a three-hour layover."

I sighed and said, "It's an eight-hour flight from Boston to Vegas. That means we won't get there until about ... five pm tomorrow eastern time. Let me see, that would be about two pm Vegas time."

"Damn it!" she exclaimed. "I was hoping we could hook up sooner. It's about four and a half hours from here to Vegas. That means we'll be touching down tonight around eight-thirty local time - eleven thirty your time."

"I don't like it. That means both of us will have to deal with our ... ah ... delicate situations over night."

There was a moment of silence before Michelle spoke, "I take it you've also had an incident ... because of a mind intrusion."

"Yes," I admitted relieved that she couldn't see the reddening of my face, "but I was able to resist." I chose not to tell her that had it not been for Brock O'Day's opportune phone call, I would have succumbed to the temptation. I cleared my throat before asking what I felt I had to ask, "And you ... were able to resist?"

"It wasn't easy, but yes." Her voice turned to a near whisper, "I came so close to giving in, Michael. I thought it was you. I feel so ashamed. I had to keep telling myself I wasn't with you."

I felt a pang of guilt that I was letting on that it had been easy for me to resist the lust that had been raging in my head and loins. I made a silent vow that I would come clean on the subject when we were together the following evening.

"Don't be, Michelle. We beat it. Let's both be strong so we can make through the remainder of the night."

"You can count on it," she said. "I'm not looking forward to another flight on Air Libido."

"What?" I muttered. "Air Libido?"

"Let me put it this way," she said in a whisper fainter than before, "If I hadn't come to my senses, if I had given in, I would now be a member of ... the Mile-High Club."

After we exchanged some tender words and said goodnight I stared again at the Boston skyline. The sun was behind the horizon and the city appeared to be painted in a purplish hue.

Susan was watching me. I could feel her eyes on me. I struggled not to look at her. One thing was certain, it was going to be a long, long night.

( To be continued ...

Voices in the Night )

№ 2017