tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84530591493311434802024-03-08T10:06:35.458-05:00A memories of Myst and Uru BlogSome of my memories of the games, and the events. Disclaimer: All of these posts are simply my recollections, and my imagination. Nothing here should be construed as fact. All copyrights of Myst, Uru, and any other intellectual properties pertaining to Cyan Worlds Inc. should be respected.Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453059149331143480.post-46048365525916142722006-12-18T08:26:00.000-05:002006-12-18T08:27:23.616-05:00I hope you enjoy reading this blog and novelIt's been fun, and I am seriously going to try to write more to finish the thoughts that I've got going. I just haven't felt the urge.<br /><br />Honestly, let me know if you like it, okay? Thank you, the reader!Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453059149331143480.post-71383862437284440902006-12-17T19:37:00.000-05:002006-12-17T19:39:29.320-05:00Chapter 13Chapter 13<br /><br />Continued from Chapter 12<br /><br />As you wake up, the next morning, it's a nice realization that, once again, you've not had any nasty visitors. "Let's hope they stay away, but I'm sure they'll be back," you mutter, under your breath. "Who is behind this? How did they find out about D'ni and the linking books, at all? How did they know I have one?" All these questions pile in your head, sending it spinning. So many questions without answers. With all this going on in your head, you don't see Lesley wake up beside you. She leans in for a kiss, startling you. "Oh, good morning!" you stutter, suddenly thinking of her.<br /><br />"Good morning, and how did you sleep?" She nuzzles her head in and kisses your neck, loving the feeling of your soft, warm skin so close. You hug her in close too, liking this warm, female body next to you. So comfortable, content, and cozy this morning, between you.<br /><br />"I slept well. I'm glad we didn't have visitors, in the night," you say, with a wry tone.<br /><br />"Yes, not welcome at all." She shakes her head. "Well, let's not think of that, okay?' You kiss her again as she leans in. "Mm, I think I need to be loved some more," she says, winking. You laugh, and eagerly comply with your lady's wishes, putting a lovely smile on her face.<br /><br />After breakfast, it is decided, after talking about it, that your ankle isn't better enough, yet, for walking, although as you admit to her, you are dying to find out more. "But it'll only set me back farther if I damage it, correct?"<br /><br />"That's so true. So, time spent resting it is better, correct?" she says, nodding her head.<br /><br />"Yup, so I'll work on my maps some more today. I'll be needing some ink for my tracing pen later, as well. So, perhaps, we'll go together?" She nods in agreement.<br /><br />As the day wears on, she starts to feel that dreadful, painful feeling. She checks her dates in her little calendar book, and sits down. Beginning to cry, she feels so sad. It's the day for her monthly period. She knows that for the next few days, she'll be in pain, in bed, with a hot water bottle, if possible, clutched to her middle. It's a sad day for her. You find her sitting there, crying. Planning to head off to get the ink, you were hoping that she'd come with you.<br /><br />"What's the matter, Lesley?" you say, concern evident in your voice.<br /><br />"Oh, just that time of the month for me. So, for the next few days, I'll be in some pain. I've already taken some pain pills but I'm not feeling very good, as it is. You hug her, feeling badly.<br /><br />"I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do or get for you?" you ask, concerned and wanting to help.<br /><br />"Do you have a hot water bottle handy perhaps?" she asks, looking up at you with her tear-stained eyes.<br /><br />"No, not here, at the house I do. I'll drop by there and get it for you, if that's okay?" you reply.<br /><br />"Oh yes, that would be great," she replies, but not in a happy tone. Already she's feeling the dull agony of the pain starting. You nod and kiss her goodbye. She lays on the bed, after you've gone, and quietly cries.<br /><br />You head off in the truck, to get your supplies for the map drawing and also, to get the hot water bottle for her. You feel a heavy weight of sadness, knowing that she's in pain, as you drive away.<br /><br />She falls asleep, while resting, on the bed. Upon waking, she hears voices in the Cleft. Thinking that, perhaps, you've returned, she calls out "Gareth, I'm here, in the bedroom, still." She waits for a moment, and then as footsteps get closer, she smiles, anticipating your appearance. But to her horror, it isn't your face. It's the two fellows who were here, in the Cleft, earlier, looking for the D'ni linking books.<br /><br />"Well, look at this. Miss Scratch My Eyes Out and she doesn't have her knight in shining armour to protect her. Isn't that sad?" The fellow who she attacked walks right in. His buddy is with him. They both have smirks on their faces. Guns are drawn and pointing at her. She hesitates and looks very worried. Inside she's screaming "Oh my god, no, no, Gareth I need you. Come and rescue me." She knows that she'd never get to the shotgun standing at the head of the bed in time.<br /><br />"What the hell are you doing here? Don't you know the books are gone? Did you think we'd be stupid enough to leave them here for you to steal again, you idiots," she yells at them. This doesn't help matters at all with these guys. Adding insult, to the fact that they see a helpless female, who has badly injured one of them, just fuels the fire. The guy whom Lesley hurt walks towards her.<br /><br />"Well, honey, I don't really care about the linking book at this point. All I want is you." He starts to undo his pants. She realizes that she's sitting there with her top undone, and her breasts, cupped in her bra, are showing. As a result, it's a desirable sight for any guy, let alone one who'd like to teach this girl a lesson in behaving. The buddy smirks. Lesley grows more scared than ever, as she sees this guy taking off his pants, as he watches her. She feels a cold pit of dread in her stomach because she knows she's helpless.<br /><br />"Don't you dare touch me! I'll scream, and I'll bite you, and you'll regret it!" Lesley yells at him. But he just smirks more as he moves in towards the bed. He knows she's defenceless.<br /><br />"Who will hear you scream, little lady? If you hurt me, I'll hurt you worse, I promise." He grabs her by the hair and pulls back, hard. Her hands reach up to scratch him, but the pain of having her hair pulled is so painful, she starts to cry. He pushes her down on the bed. "Oh dear, the lady is crying. Maybe she's missing some of this." He forces his erect penis up against her jeans, getting so excited at the thought of all of this. The thought of causing her pain is exciting to him. It's a thrill. An excitement that can't be stopped now. All the whimpering she does, asking him to please stop, just fuels his desire, even more. The buddy helps with undoing Lesley's jeans and pulling them off and her underpants. "Oh such pretty underwear, all nice and frilly. Mm, fresh pussy juice," he says, sniffing them, getting a massive erection at the thought of fucking her.<br /><br />As he fingers her, she is crying and whimpering and saying, "stop, please stop, I don't want this, stop." He sees some blood there, on his fingers, and that is exciting to him. It's like blood in a shark's nose, for him, to see it. Eagerly, he penetrates her, enjoying it so much. Roughly, hard, eager, forcing his penis deep into her, he loves this. The stiffness of her body as she tries to force him away. All the while, he is pulling back, hard, on her hair. The pain, the agony, the fear she feels, is immense. There is no love here. No tenderness at all. It's a raping of not only her body but her soul. She cries bitter tears, praying to you to hear her cries. She prays to Jesus too, asking for comfort. It's no help, at this time.<br /><br />The buddy has his turn next as the first guy gets dressed. All the time, a gun is trained on her, and her head is pulled back. So, there is no escaping this torture of the body they inflict upon her. She is helpless in their wanton misuse of her body. A crime of the spirit that she can't do anything about. After he's finished with her, the buddy pulls away, and flicks himself clean. Getting dressed, he jokes with the other guy that yeah, she was a decent lay but man, sure didn't do much to help them. She lays there, curled into a ball now, feeling so dirty, defenceless and broken as a human being. "So, lady, where's the linking books? You tell us, or we shoot you, now, here, and we lay in wait for Mr. Knight in Shining Armour to come back, and find you dead, and then make him tell us where they are. Talk!" At that, Lesley has to gather her strength from somewhere.<br /><br />"They are not getting the linking books! I can't let them shoot Gareth! No!" says Lesley, to herself. "You think I'm going to tell you where they are? Are you an idiot?" He gives her a good swat across the face.<br /><br />"You tell me, bitch!" He is furious with her. His swat sends her staggering off the bed. She cowers there, afraid. But she's closer to the gun now, on the floor. The guys haven't seen it because it's tucked up beside the bed, at the head of it, against the wall. It's not obvious, at first glance.<br /><br />Meanwhile, you have returned in the truck, from your errands. You see their car parked there, beside Lesley's, and know they are in the Cleft area. So, you are very cautious in your return. You peer over the edge of the Cleft and hear voices. So, you quickly climb down the ladder, and then crouching down, you go to the kitchen. You arm yourself with a knife. Holding it in front of you, you creep towards the bedroom area. You hear Lesley scream and a man shouting, "you tell me, bitch!" Then you hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh again, and her moan of pain. You want to scream out, "STOP! STOP the torture!" But then you hear him say, "I'll shoot you dead and then I'll shoot the knight in shining armour too, when he comes back, and finds you dead. Then we'll tear this place apart to find them. I know they are here!" So, you know they have guns, this time.<br /><br />"Oh my god, what do I do? How can I call them off Lesley, and get them out here?" you think. The worry you have for Lesley is full in your mind, but that has to be pushed aside now. The dilemma of what to do to save her, and yourself, and quickly, is foremost in your mind. You know she's got a gun in there and that it's loaded. "So, I'll have to draw them out here, somehow, and let her get to the gun, somehow. Dear Lord, please let this work. Please save Lesley, I love her so much." You realize that you've spoken to the Lord for the first time, in a long time. You gather some pebbles, forming a plan at the same time. You need to get at least one of them out here, and then the other one to be distracted. You remember some firecrackers you have in the kitchen. Working quickly, you get them into a tin can that you empty out and dry out. Then with that set and ready, you light the long fuse. You quickly run back, quietly to the bedroom area, ready to attack the first one who comes out.<br /><br />As the fuse burns out and the firecrackers light up, you tense up, getting ready for the action. As expected, the buddy sticks out his head. He's curious as to what is making the banging noises, after all. He walks out and comes down the stairway. His attention is where the noise is coming from and not on you. You realize that, and come towards him, from behind, quietly and efficiently. You clamp your hand over his mouth and put the knife at his throat. "Make a sound and I slit your throat, buddy!" you hiss into his ear. "Now, move!" You quickly escort him to the far end of the Cleft into the kitchen, all the while holding the knife steady over his throat. When you get there, you relieve him of the gun, and pointing it at him, you then retrieve the duct tape. Forcing him down, you use some plastic cable ties on his wrists, behind his back and on his ankles. A quick rip of the duct tape and it's over his mouth and another length of it for his eyes. "Now, stay here and you'll live!" you whisper, then you are off again, eager to get the bastard who hurt Lesley, you're sure.<br /><br />Returning again, to just below the bedroom, you hear the idiot say "what is taking him so long to find out what that noise is? Hey you, bitch, get up and look out, for me, and tell me if you see him." He figures that's safer, that way. You see her look out and try to catch her eye. She sees you but doesn't make a move. She knows there is a gun trained on her and that the idiot isn't afraid to use it. You are shocked to see her naked from the waist down, blood on her legs, her shirt open, her bra showing, and her face looking beaten up again.<br /><br />"I don't see him. Go find him yourself," she says in a flat, hard voice and goes and sits at the head of the bed. What he doesn't realize is that she is now very close to the gun. He stands there, indecisive, wondering what to do and where his buddy is. He takes a quick peek out of the doorway, trying to see his buddy. He calls to him. That's the break she's been waiting for. She grabs the gun and thanks the Lord, and you, for showing her, the other night, how to cock it, and shoot it, if necessary. She doesn't say anything, until she's got it steady, ready, aimed, and cocked. The click alerts him that something is up. "Drop your gun," she yells, alerting you to the fact that she's got the gun in her hands. As he stands there, indecisive now, as what to do, you creep up the staircase. You enter the room and see her there, gun at the ready, and him facing her now. You silently creep up and then grab him around the neck and get the knife there, at the throat. Lesley doesn't let the gun drop but walks slowly towards him and takes the gun out of his suddenly limp hands. She knows you are in control of him but she really wants to hurt this man badly. The longing to shoot him is very strong within her. "You bastard!" she screams at him. "You bastard, for raping me. I want to shoot you, I want to kill you, I want you to suffer, like you made me suffer. You bastard!" she screams. You pale in shock, at her words, spit out at this guy you've got a hold of.<br /><br />"Rape? Oh my god, they raped her? How dare they do that to her! A poor, defenceless girl and they raped her. Oh my god, it would be so easy to slit this man's throat. How can I stop myself? How do I stay strong, and not hurt him, like I want to hurt him!" are the thoughts racing through your mind. But you say, the words hissing out, "I'm not going to slit your throat like you deserve. But I am going to hurt you for a minute." You step back and kick him hard in the back of the knees, causing him to fall to the ground, as his legs buckle. Then, as he turns over, lying down, you give him a good kick between the legs where it really hurts. "You ass hole! How dare you treat a lady like that? How dare you rape a woman who never hurt you except in self-defence? You ass hole!" You restrain yourself from kicking him into a senseless ball of flesh.<br /><br />All the while, Lesley stands there, shotgun steadily trained on him. Tears are running down her face as she weeps, in pain, both physically and mentally. You go to her, and hug her, but both of you are cautious, still, of the danger presented by the man on the floor. Then, you say, "I'm sorry, I have to go get something to tie him up with. Then we're going to get some answers to some questions I have!" She nods, aware that she has to be strong for a while longer. You quickly run to the kitchen, grab the cable ties, and cut the ties on the buddy's legs. You rip off the duct tape over his eyes. Hauling him to his feet, you march him back to the bedroom, where under the watchful eye of Lesley, the other guy sits there, waiting. He's still wincing in pain.<br /><br />"I'm going to get you, for kicking me in the nuts. Don't you worry, I'm going to get you!" he boasts, as soon as he sees you. You go over and look him in the eye.<br /><br />"I'll not even bother answering that stupid statement. But what I will say is this. You will give me answers as to why you are here and what you are here for and who sent you, or your friend here, will pay the consequences with his life." You indicate the buddy. This doesn't scare the big brute, you can tell. You proceed to apply cable ties to his wrists, behind his back, and to his ankles. Then you tear off a strip of duct tape and put it across his eyes. You do the same to the buddy.<br /><br />That done, you proceed to Lesley and take the shotgun from her. Hugging her deeply, you cry a little inside for her. "Your lady wasn't a very good fuck, you know. She whimpers too much for it to be any fun," pipes up the idiot.<br /><br />"You'll not talk of her in that way, in front of her, or me, you understand," you say, in a quiet, furious voice, in his direction. "Her name is Lesley and she is a person, not an animal, and should be treated kindly, and with love and respect. Something you don't get, obviously." You hug Lesley tightly and whisper to her, "don't mind him, he's just an animal, low-life, person who is trying to get us to do something rash. We have the upper hand now." She nods her head, her tears still flowing. She hugs you tighter, needing your strength more than ever now. You know that she should be seen by a doctor soon, too, and that worries you. But you know that you need answers too. Why are these men here, again, so soon? Why do they want this linking book so badly? How can you get answers quickly, and yet, get help for Lesley, too? Your mind spins with it all, but you are calculating all the time. "Okay, I have a plan Lesley," you whisper again, into her ear. "I'm going to go up top and call for the police to come and pick them up. I'll ask them to send an ambulance too, for you, so that you can get treated quickly, while on the way to the hospital. Because you should be looked at. What I want you to do is this. When I say 'Oh my god, Lesley, you're hemorrhaging blood, we have to get you to the hospital right away,' I want you to come with me, as far as the doorway, then stop. Just crouch down outside and listen to what they say, okay? Left alone, at this time, not knowing what I'll do with them, is likely the best option. Fighting with them, trying to get out the answers, isn't the smartest idea. Mind games is the ticket, I believe. That okay with you?" You look at her, your heart melting at the sight of Lesley with tears upon her beaten up face, and her body naked, and abused. She mutely nods, too tired and scared to speak. Kissing her, you whisper, "Don't worry, I'll get you the help you need. Don't worry, stay strong. Are you ready?"<br /><br />"Yes, I'm ready," she whispers back, in a tiny voice, weak with fatigue. You flash a brief smile at her, swelling her heart with love. She feels such love for you. You step back from her, and hold up your hand.<br /><br />"You should get dressed Lesley," you say, in a normal voice, now. "You'd feel better that way, having some clothes on, I'm sure."<br /><br />"Yes, okay, I'll get dressed now," Lesley replies, not sure where you are going.<br /><br />"Oh my god, Lesley, the blood is just gushing of you now!" you suddenly cry. "We have to get you to the hospital right away or you'll die of blood loss. Come on!" You take her by the arm, gently and the two of you, smiling at each other, quickly make your leave. The buddy speaks up.<br /><br />"Hey, what about us. Are you just going to leave us here?"<br /><br />"Don't worry, I'll be back," you say, on your way down the stairs. You pause, looking at Lesley crouched there, just outside the door. You smile at her, wanting to give her hope, courage, and support. She looks so small, weak, and defenceless, sitting curled up like that. But you know you have to call the police and get an ambulance there, for her, soon. Waving your hand at her, you then run to the ladders, and climb out quickly. You call 911 and tell them your girlfriend has been attacked. The attackers are being restrained, and your girlfriend needs an ambulance pretty bad. On the phone, you're calm and composed, but inside you're seething angry at what they did to Lesley. A deep seated anger that you'll have to let out at some point, you know, but so far, you can keep a lid on it.<br /><br />Meanwhile, Lesley is waiting there. There is silence for about a minute. "What should we do?" asks the buddy, in a plaintive voice. He's at a loss.<br /><br />"Well, we should try and escape, shouldn't we," says the other, in a "why don't you ask another another stupid question?" sounding voice. "Can you move at all?"<br /><br />"No, he pulled the cable ties really tight and my hands can't move at all. You?"<br /><br />"No, can't move my hands, but I could try and get along on my knees maybe, to the wall and get the damn tape off my eyes. Man, this is bugging me, not being able to see!" He tries, and fails to get to his knees. They are truly hogtied, for the moment, unable to do anything to escape. Realizing this, they sit there a moment. "Why didn't that bitch cave in? Why didn't she give us the damn book? Shit, it wouldn't have been so complicated then." Lesley's ears perk up at this line.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">This is all that I've written so far. I hope that the will to write comes back, and that I'll enjoy it again. I can't say, when, or if, I'll continue. Let me know if you like it, or love it, or hate it. Thanks.</span>Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453059149331143480.post-9717107609200007582006-12-17T19:36:00.001-05:002006-12-17T19:36:58.029-05:00Chapter 12Chapter 12<br /><br />Continued from Chapter 11<br /><br />After a long time in Relto, where you both recover from the shock and dismay of the day's events, then you return to the Cleft, when your tummy starts to rumble. You speak of it, and she agrees that it is time to return to the Cleft.<br /><br />Once there, you both prepare dinner. It is a nice time to cook with someone else and have the meal ready in short order. As you eat, your mind is going over, again, the plan for safety you have been mulling over, while lying on the blanket in Relto. "Let's put your Relto book in another hiding spot, okay, and then if either of us needs it, we'll have quick access to it?" She nods her head.<br /><br />"Where did you think would be wise?" she asks, head tilted to the side, wondering what you have in mind. She's been eating up, hungrily, starving for good food for herself.<br /><br />"Here," you indicate with your hand, "is a good spot to put it." It's behind the row of batteries that you use for power. There is a little, narrow platform they sit on, and you can just squeeze the book under it, so that even by just looking back there, you can't see it without reaching for it.<br /><br />"Yes, good place!" she states, with a smile on her face. "Now, how are we going to ensure that we don't get attacked again, for those books that aren't here?" She has a worried look on her face.<br /><br />"Hmm, well, I've been thinking out a plan. I think I should set up a simple trip wire at the bottom of the ladder. That way, you and I will know it's there, but others won't, thereby sounding an alarm. She nods her head, thinking that a good idea. "I'll also bring my shotgun down here and have it beside the bed, just in case." Your face is set in a stern, forbidding look. Angry at having to resort to using that dreadful tool, but practical too. Not an easy decision, but a wise one, you realize. You head off immediately to the ladder, to climb up and get it and the box of shells from the truck . As you climb out of the Cleft, she is left there, thinking her own thoughts.<br /><br />'How can I help protect us? What can I contribute to this mess we've in? Where can my knowledge help us in some way?" are her thoughts, as she stands, mute, at the doorway of the kitchen, regarding the ladder out. She's at a loss for a minute. She's not religious by any means. But despite her anger at the hypocrites in the church she still feels a sense of peace when she asks for help. So, she says a small prayer for safety and help in this time of need. Then she goes out. She spies her groceries still lying on the Cleft floor. Gathering them, she returns to the kitchen and puts them away. Meanwhile, she is still thinking of what to do to protect you both. She comes up with a plan.<br /><br />"I'm back," you announce, walking into the kitchen with the shotgun in hand. She turns to look at you.<br /><br />"What do you think of this idea?" she says. "We'll get some old clothes and stuff them with something and place them in your bed to look like we are there, in bed. We'll keep your trunk locked again, as well, thereby still letting anyone think the books are still there. We'll sleep in my room, with a row of small rocks hanging from the edge of the curtain for a slight protection. At least, then, we'd hear if they came into the room while we were there." You smile at her inventiveness.<br /><br />"Yes, those are all wonderful ideas! For a trip wire, I was thinking of a thin wire, attached to a tin can with a few rocks in it. So, then the can would rattle with the wire moving." You grin at her, liking both of your ideas, for safety.<br /><br />"Yes, we can use the can from the beans we had tonight for supper!" she exclaims. She digs it out of the garbage can and goes out to the Cleft floor. Gathering pebbles she fills the can half-full. Then you put a small hole in the closed end of it and then feed a thin piece of wire through the hole and then encircle the can with it, thereby anchoring that end of the wire. Then you tape the open end shut with duct tape. Taking the thin wire roll and the can out to the ground right near the bottom of the ladder, you wind the wire around the ladder bottom. You use some rocks to hold up the wire at just about ankle length. Then place the can in a hollow area, against the wall, where it's not noticeable. She smiles at your handiwork. "That's great work, Gareth, and I think that will work well."<br /><br />Next, you go to your room, and lock the trunk again, thereby making it look like the linking books are still within its safety. Lesley uses some sheets wadded up and stuffs a couple of pants, and two tops to make "bodies" for the bed. For heads on the "bodies" you use pillows tied around with string. "There, does that look good?" she asks as she finishes arranging the covers up around the "bodies". You smile and nod your agreement.<br /><br />Next, Lesley uses some thread to sew on some little pockets at the bottom of the curtain covering the door of her room. She works quickly, sure of herself with her needle that she retrieved from her little sewing kit in her backpack. You go out and gather small pebbles again. Together, you pour the pebbles into the pockets. They make a satisfying little jingle as you move the curtain even slightly, testing it. "There, that should announce someone visiting us, uninvited," you say, with a sense of pleasure in your voice.<br /><br />"Yes, hopefully, we'll get some sleep tonight," is Lesley's comment. It is deep night now, the moon not as full. Lesley lights the coal oil lamp. You get yourselves settled in the room. It's not as big as your room but it's got the same size sleeping platform with a nice mattress. You both get ready for bed, with the shotgun close at hand, and then climb into bed. It's nice once you're there with her, under the covers, cuddling. After a nice kiss, you both fall asleep. But neither of you sleep well, wary of any sound in the night, hoping against hope not to hear the sound of the pebbles in the can.<br /><br />As she awakes, the light tells her that it's morning. She's happy that you both had a decent nights sleep despite the worry of the day before. Turning her head, she see you still asleep, on your stomach, head turned away. Not wanting to disturb you, she stays there, curling on her side, to watch you sleeping. Her mind goes over the last day. Her face hurts and her body is sore from the punching and the bruising. She can see by just looking at her arms that they are bruised. As you awake, you become aware of her lying there beside you, after you turn your head. You smile at her. "Good morning! I guess we got through the night without any nasty visitors, thankfully."<br /><br />"Yes, that's a good thing, always." As she is speaking, she's also moving into the circle of your arms and reaching her face towards yours for a nice kiss good morning. You lean back and regard her face.<br /><br />"Wow, lots of bruising now. Are you sore all over?"<br /><br />"Yes, I'm a bit stiff and sore, but I'll live. Am I ugly with the bruises on my face?"<br /><br />"Of course not!" you vehemently deny. "You're still the beautiful girl that I love, and who is so brave." You lean in for another kiss. She kisses you back and arches her body into yours. It's an open invitation this morning. You sense her mood, by the way her hand is on your face, and the way her body keeps pressing into yours. She's not breaking the contact at all. "Hmm, would my lovely lady like something? What, on earth, could that be?" you tease her. She giggles and smacks your shoulder gently.<br /><br />"I want you," she says boldly, but still a bit shy. But then, she sits right up and takes off her pyjamas, right there. Just throws them onto the floor and then kneels there on the bed naked and smiles at you. "Yeah, I want you. Want me?" She beckons with a finger.<br /><br />"Hmm, let me see. Would I like to have a nice screw with my lady, or get up and eat some food? Which should I choose?" You ponder the question, finger on your lips, playing with her. She's smiling at you, breasts naked, her lovely, lithe body on display for you. You suddenly pounce on her, and hug her, and fall back to the mattress, holding onto her. "I choose you," you say, and then kiss her, hard and demanding like, on the lips. She's kissing you back just as hard, pleased at your choice. It's a fun time but a heated moment too, where you are stoking each other's desire. She helps you off with your pyjamas soon after.<br /><br />Kissing her way down your body is a fun thing for her to do. You enjoy watching her touching you in so many places. She's like a hungry lioness over your body, desiring you. Then she sits on you and you slip into her. Hands locked together, she stares at you. Throwing back her head, she moans that lovely deep moan of a woman who is satisfied in a deep way. So nice to see her on top of you, swaying. She leans forward for you to catch her breast in your mouth. "Mm, Gareth, that is so wonderful," she exclaims. You build up to a lovely climax. As you slow down, she sinks to your chest and kisses you deeply. Her eyes are closed. The feelings of love, trust, and pleasure are all there in her lithe body, as she lays on you. "That was amazingly good feeling," she says, softly, as she lays there. "It was different feeling, and nice, and sooooo hot." She smiles at you.<br /><br />"Mm, yes, very hot for a man to have a woman undress for him, and ask him, in no uncertain terms, to make love to her," you say, teasing her.<br /><br />She laughs and says, "yeah, I wasn't very shy this morning, was I?" She winks at you. You both erupt in laughter, enjoying this silly banter between you. It's light, and funny, and very silly. After a little cuddle, she looks up at you and whispers, "try number one for a baby huh?" and then giggles. Laughing as well, you kiss her. But it's a tender time too. Because you know that she's stopped taking the birth control pills. You want it to work for her, just as much as she does.<br /><br />Breakfast is made together, this morning, with laughter, and joy present in the air. It's another beautiful day, but a bit chilly. It's late September now, and in the mornings, and evenings, the air has a nip to it, now. Within the month you know, you'll have to move to the house, where you'll spend the winter. You bring this up with her. "By the end of October, it'll be a bit cold to be here. So, I'll be moving to the house in towards town. Would you like to come and see it with me?"<br /><br />"Oh really? That soon? I didn't realize that you couldn't live in the Cleft for longer than a few months of the summer and fall!"<br /><br />"Yes, it gets just too cold for comfort to stay here," you reply, reaching out for her. You've just finished drying the dishes, and are holding the dish towel, still. But, she comes willingly into your arms. A soft hug together, a gentle kiss and a short time of togetherness. "This is lovely, having you here," you say, softly nuzzling her neck. Your heart pounds for this beautiful woman now. Her scent, her movements, her beauty, even when bruised, is captivating for you. She's caught you in her web, you know, and you're completely content to be there.<br /><br />"I miss coffee," she says, as you break apart. "I used to have morning coffee, and lattes, and watch television in the evenings. I do miss those things a bit but honestly not a great deal." You smile at her, as she lists the things she misses.<br /><br />"Well, I've got a television at the house, but no satellite connection. I just don't watch enough of it to warrant the cost," you say, shrugging your shoulders.<br /><br />"Yeah, I can understand that," she says, smiling at you. "Don't worry, I'll not make you get it for me." She rolls her eyes in laughter.<br /><br />"Ha, well, if you want it, you can pay for it!" you say, joking now with her. Her face takes on a serious look.<br /><br />"Yes, I'll have to think of looking for work, won't I? Or finding some way of getting some money in. I mean, I've got some savings yes, but not enough to live on, without some coming in regularly."<br /><br />"Well, don't worry about that right away, let's enjoy some free time with each other, while we're here at the Cleft, and worry about the nasty details of modern life and money in a week or so, okay?"<br /><br />She nods her head. "That's sounding pretty darn nice. I don't miss phones at all!" Her voice emphasizes the word phones. "Gareth, I so appreciate you offering me a place to stay and then letting me into your heart and your life like this. I feel so amazingly alive now. I feel like a new woman reborn, with hope. Thank you!" You step towards her, and capture her again in your arms. Wordlessly, her arms link around your neck and your hands sit on her hips. You kiss each other again. Long, slow, loving kisses.<br /><br />"No, thank you, you beautiful woman, for coming into my life. You are what I needed, more than ever, and didn't realize. I needed you and you came. Thank you." Again, it's a very tender, loving moment between you where tears are at the brink of her eyes. You stare at each other, feeling the closeness. Then you hug, so aware of needing each other.<br /><br />"So, what should we do today? How's the ankle feel this morning? Are you thinking of walking to the cave?" she asks, firing off the questions rapidly, mind churning, as she breaks away after the tender moment. Your mind changes gears as well, thinking about your ankle. You test it, and evaluate how it feels.<br /><br />"Hmm, it's a bit sore when I really rotate it. I'd think another day of not walking would be better on it. Why don't we go and see the house and see if it's okay, for now?" you ask her, eyebrows raised in question.<br /><br />"Sure, let's take it easy today, and have a picnic lunch on Relto, maybe afterwards?<br /><br />"Yes, that sounds like a good plan! I'd love to do that, with you." You reach and cup her cheek with your hand, running your thumb over her cheek. "Let's get ready and head off to the house first, okay?" She nods, and turns and heads off to get changed. You get the keys you'll need, for the house, from your study. You've not been there since the spring. Sharing the house with your grandmother was nice but it's been lonely since she passed on. So, inside, you're excited at showing it to Lesley. You want her to like it. She arrives back, to find you standing there thinking.<br /><br />"What are you thinking of?" she asks.<br /><br />"Oh, just my grandmother and how she hated to leave the Cleft in the fall. She missed living here. It was lonely in the house without her, after she passed away."<br /><br />"Ah, yes, I'd imagine so. Well, I'm sorry for your loss," she says, coming over and holding your hand. She gazes into your eyes.<br /><br />"Yes, I miss her," you say, simply then turn away, walking out. Lesley follows you.<br /><br />You climb to the desert floor and Lesley joins you. Together, hand in hand, you walk to the truck. Opening the door for her, you smile as she climbs in. Then you get in on your side. After starting it, you both put on your seatbelts. Then you drive off.<br /><br />The house is in fine shape, you find, except a bit dusty. But that's soon cleaned up. The furniture is covered with cloths, to protect it. But you enjoy showing Lesley around. It's an old Victorian style house, built in the western style with a wide verandah for sitting upon. So, after retrieving a can of frozen juice from the freezer, you make up some lemonade for the two of you. Sitting on the verandah, you talk for a while. About how the house came into your possession because of a deal your grandmother made with a local man. How, in her old age, it was easier for her to deal with the stairs than the ladder at the Cleft. But how she, also stubbornly insisted on visiting there until the last few days of her life. "How did she die?" Lesley asks, gently.<br /><br />"She got a bacterial infection that wasn't treated fast enough. It killed her quickly and painlessly, I believe," you say, shrugging your shoulders. "Her foot got a severe cut when she dropped a glass and being the type she was, she didn't see a doctor. It should have had stitches in it." You tell the story in a flat voice, emotionless, the telling of it painful but necessary. "So, not knowing how serious a cut it was until a day after the fact, the damage was done. I took her to the doctor, who put her in the hospital, but within a couple of days, the infection killed her. Such a tragedy." You sound so sad. Lesley reaches out and grips one of your hands, in sympathy.<br /><br />"Oh my, such a senseless death of a very special lady," she says, sadly.<br /><br />"Yes," you reply, simply. For a short time, there is silence between you. "Well, let's get these glasses washed and head back to the Cleft, okay? I'd like to make a picnic lunch and enjoy some quality Relto time with my lovely lady. You smile at her.<br /><br />"Sure, let's do it," she replies.<br /><br />After you return to the Cleft, she makes the lunch, with your help. Then you retrieve the Relto book you hid underneath the batteries. She links first with a smile. You link right after her. Once there, you walk to the far end, spreading a blanket for the two of you, to sit upon. She smiles her thanks and settles down, getting comfortable. You hand out the freshly made sandwiches, hungry for food. "Mm, thank you!" murmurs Lesley, after her first bite. "These are so good! I love smoked meat with mustard and lettuce and cheese." You nod, your mouth full too.<br /><br />Afterwards, sitting on the blanket, crunching on an apple, you are both silent. Minds busy with your own thoughts. You lay down and have a nap, on the blanket, enjoying the peacefulness of this place. It's nice feeling peaceful here, with her beside you. A very pleasant time. After you wake up our mind goes over, once again, the cave and the discovery. "What was the purpose of him being there? Why? Why was he there without climbing equipment? How did he get there?" Your mind churns with questions, again. As she sees you sleeping, her mind is on you, remembering making love to you, your grandmother, and your wife. All the things she's learned about you, are going through her mind.<br /><br />After a couple of hours you get up and stretch. "Well, that was a pleasant, lovely break, wasn't it? Let's try and get back to the Cleft soon, however. I should do some map work for a couple of hours today, to keep up my skills." She nods, and within a few minutes, you are linking out again, back to the Cleft.<br /><br />You get to work, in your study, working on a custom map for a customer. It's not a rush job, but a job that should be done, at some point. You use pencils and rulers and refer to the topographical maps on hand. It's detailed work and requires concentration. She's gone off to the room you two are using now. Sitting on the bed, she writes in her diary for a short while and then sits and dreams again. "Oh, how much I want a baby in here," and she gently rubs her tummy and smiles. A deeply held dream that just may be realized, soon, she hopes. Then her tummy starts to rumble so she heads to the kitchen, to prepare dinner.<br /><br />"Gareth, dinner is almost ready, okay?" she says, poking her head into your study.<br /><br />"Oh, okay! Will be there in a few minutes. Let me just finish here and put my stuff away," you reply, smiling at her. This is really nice, you realize, having dinner all made for you, with a lovely lady for company, to boot. You remark on that fact as you sit down. She blushes prettily.<br /><br />The two of you do up the dishes together, afterwards, and then, as a nice closer to the day, you play the guitar for a short while. She admires your skill at playing. Then you head to bed, together, again, hoping for no night visitors of the human kind.<br /><br />Continued in Chapter 13Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453059149331143480.post-53529266234825035842006-12-17T19:35:00.000-05:002006-12-17T19:36:00.964-05:00Chapter 11Chapter 11<br /><br />Continued from Chapter 10<br /><br />In the early morning light, she wakes first. She turns and sees you still sleeping. Curling onto her side to face you, she lays there, with a small smile playing on her lips. She watches you sleeping. You soon stir. As you become aware of your surroundings, you turn your head and see her there, eyes open, watching you. "What are you looking at?" you say, in that lovely, gruff, early morning voice she's coming to know, and to love.<br /><br />"Just you sleeping. It's nice to see all that worry gone from your face." She leans in for a quick kiss. "Let's eat, I'm hungry." Then, she jumps out of bed. You are surprised at her eagerness to get going. You lie there for a minute, evaluating what to do. Like most guys, you're experiencing a natural phenomenon that occurs during sleep. In some ways, you're thinking about dragging her back into bed. But breakfast does sound good too. So, you decide on the food, rather than the sex, this morning. She's already gone so you get up and get dressed.<br /><br />Breakfast is a quick, short matter this morning. "I'd like to get my car today, if you don't mind and I need to get some laundry done, because I'm running out of clean clothes," she says, as you dry up the dishes after she's washed them. "Honestly, your ankle isn't really good enough to go walking to that cave and doing exploring, correct?" She stands with her hands on her hips, sure of herself. You smile at her and nod affirmatively. She smiles and sticks out her tongue at you and says, "Told you so." You snap the dish towel at her, for her sauciness. She dances away from the towel, laughing at you, for missing her. You give up the chase, and get back to work drying the few dishes.<br /><br />"Hmm, if we're going to be in town, I should get a new cell phone battery actually," you say, with a thoughtful look on your face. She looks surprised.<br /><br />"You have a cell phone out here?" Her eyes are wide in surprise.<br /><br />"Yeah, works great up top, but the reception stinks down here in the cleft. It's a 12 volt charger that I use, plugged into a panel, that draws the power from my batteries." You wave your hand, indicating the row of deep cell 12 volt batteries in the far corner, behind the curtain. She nods, understanding that quite well.<br /><br />"Just like a cigarette lighter in the car, obviously."<br /><br />"Yup, but the battery is over a year old and doesn't hold a charge for more than a hour now. So, time for a new one for me. I'll have to drive to the phone shop which is about an half hour extra drive away. But not a big deal, since you can come back here, on your own, after you're done with your errands." You smile at her. She nods. "We should get some water too. With you here, we're using water at twice the rate of me alone". You indicate the large plastic jug that you use for drinking, cooking and washing up.<br /><br />"I'll go collect my stuff. Can I collect your dirty clothes as well and wash them at the same time?"<br /><br />"You have to ask me that?" you say, winking. "How about if I get down on bended knee and say would you please take my clothes and wash them for me? Would that work?" She giggles at your silly statement.<br /><br />"Of course, you have to ask me nicely to do it, or you ain't getting a piece of me later, boy."<br /><br />"Oooo, the girl plays rough, doesn't she?" You're both giggling like crazy now, at this silly banter between you. Without further ado, she goes and collects all the dirty clothes into a large garbage bag and her wallet and knapsack. She climbs the ladder with all the laundry as you watch her from above. You've got the large water jug, on the ground beside you. She's panting slightly, at the exertion. You take the clothes in the big bag from her, with a smile, and carry them to the truck for her.<br /><br />As you start up the vehicle and begin the drive into town, she asks, "How do you support yourself? Where does the cash come from?"<br /><br />"In the winter I'm a general handy man for people in this area, and I do detailed maps for customers. Different ones, some topographical, some contour. Depending on what they want. In the summer, I collect semi precious stones and rocks and sell them to a collector who drops by every couple of weeks." She nods at your reply, satisfied with the answer. You discuss rocks in more detail with her, describing what you look for when rock collecting. She says that she'd love to help you hunt out more rocks. She talks about field trips she did, while in university, where she was a rock hound, chipping away with her little hammer, and safety glasses on.<br /><br />You soon reach the small town. Pulling over at the service station, you stop the truck. She leans over towards you and gives you a kiss goodbye. "See you in a couple of hours back at the Cleft," are her parting words. She gets out and waves as you drive off. She transfers the laundry into her car, and drives down the street to the laundromat. Since she's the only one there, she is able to use three machines at once. Giggling at your underwear included in the wash, she still gets to work and gets the machines loaded with change. Then, she grabs her novel, and sits down to read. "I'd love a coffee about now," she thinks. So, she heads down the street to the small cafe and goes in. She gets a nice takeout coffee with her double cream and sugar that she loves. Settling back down in the seat in the laundromat, she reads her novel under the bright lights. It's warm and comfortable, not hot. "Rather boring," she thinks, but necessary, too. When the washers are done, she loads the dryers quickly.<br /><br />In short order, she's walking out of the laundromat, with her garbage bag, full of clean clothes. She stops at the grocery store to get a few things that she'd love. Then she's on her way back to the Cleft in her car. "I wonder how long Gareth will be?" crosses her mind. "He's an interesting person," also crosses her mind.<br /><br />As she approaches the barbed wire and the gate where she has to turn in, she sees another car parked inside the fence. Not recognizing it, she wonders who it could be. "Maybe, the rock collector has come to pay Gareth a visit, perhaps?" crosses her mind. She parks her car beside the other. She glances in the windows and sees nothing amiss. She decides to leave the clothes for a later trip, and just takes her backpack, and her bag of groceries with her, on the first trip. She walks towards the Cleft. Hearing voices, as she stands at the top of the ladder, she's wondering who is there. "Hello? Who's there please?" she states, in a firm voice. She doesn't hear a reply, and thinks, "Hmm, that's a little weird, maybe they didn't hear me." She climbs down the ladder and goes to turn around. Suddenly, from behind her, a hand is firmly clamped across her mouth and a male voice is hissing in her ear. She can feel something sharp in her ribs, poking her.<br /><br />"You make a move lady, and I'll stick this knife right though you!" says the voice, in her ear. It's a cold, dreadful, shocking feeling to suddenly feel this dread, coldness in herself upon feeling this hand on her. Hearing the voice sends surging adrenaline through her body. It kicks in almost instantly, and she drops her grocery bag, stomps down hard, aiming for his shin. As he lets go of her, in pain, she tries to connect her elbow with his nose, knowing from her self-defense training that is wise. She does and she gets away and turns towards him. She's got her keys in hand and quickly laces them through her fingers, like talons, ready to strike out at him. He does lunge at her with the knife. She aims for his eyes and connects quite well. He screams in agony and clutches his bleeding face. Her adrenaline is running very high at this point. She turns to climb out of the Cleft but he comes after her. He hauls on her boots and she tries to kick him away. But she can't. He's stronger and pulls her down.<br /><br />Once he has her down, he throws her to the ground hard and says, "I'm going to hurt you, you bitch. You fucking little bitch, you've hurt me so I'm going to hurt you." While he's talking, he's whacking her hard around the head and shoulders. Just striking out with blows. She covers her head as best as she can to protect herself from the blows but he's too strong for her. She rolls herself into a ball, trying to ward off the blows.<br /><br />Your voice booms out. "What are you doing? Get away from her, now!" It's your voice and you're standing up top, holding a shotgun, at the top of the ladder. The guy attacking Lesley steps away and holds up his hands. Lesley isn't sure if she's dreaming or if your voice is really there.<br /><br />"Gareth, there is another guy down here. There are two of them," Lesley yells. Her tormentor gives her a good boot in the head to shut her up. But you've been warned already. So, you know not to climb down. "You, the big idiot, you climb up and carry her up, with you, or I start shooting at your knees." He doesn't move, indecisive. But you put the gun to your eye and take aim and say "Move, now, or I start playing games with you." So, he does move and picks her up like a sack of potatoes and drapes her over his shoulder. He climbs up out of the Cleft, carrying Lesley. You back up, giving lots of room between you and this idiot. "Lay her down there." You indicate the ground in front of you. You are shocked to see her face, all bloodied, and that she appears to be out cold, from the kick to her head. But, the cold steel of your anger at this animal in front of you, doesn't allow your gentle nature to shine, at the moment. "You call your friend up, or I'll shoot your kneecaps." He hesitates and again you put the gun to your eye and cock the trigger. He doesn't do anything. So you fire off a shot, hitting the dust in front of him. "Want me to aim a bit higher, next time?" you ask,dryly. He calls out to his partner, giving up the pretence of trying to be a man in front of you. "Why are you here?"<br /><br />"We just want the Dunny linking book, is all," he states, in his flat voice. It's a weasel sounding voice, suitable for this low-life.<br /><br />"Well, pond scum, you're not getting it. If you want one, you'll have to write one yourself, or tell whoever sent you to write one themselves." At that insult, his hands clench. His henchman, or partners head emerges from the Cleft. at the top of the ladder, at this point. He's not got anything in his hands. Their trip has been unsuccessful, obviously.<br /><br />"Your books are safe, for now," says the second guy. "But we'll be back." They slink away, trying to avoid looking at you. They break into a run and head for their car. You are glad to see them turning tail and running away. Watching them carefully until they are gone, in a plume of dust. Wheels spinning as they want to be away from you and your gun.<br /><br />When they're gone you turn your attention to Lesley. She's still out cold. You had a bad feeling when you pulled in and saw a second vehicle parked there. You didn't recognize it so your defences kicked in and that's why you reached behind the seat for your shotgun. Threading the shells into it, you had hoped not to have to use it, but, sadly, such was not the case. You have a matter of fact attitude towards it. Useful for self defence, when necessary, but you'd prefer not to have it at all. You're kneeling down now, looking over Lesley. She blinks and coughs. It's very painful for her and she grimaces at the light hitting her eyes. "Ouch, ouch, ouch, that hurts," she says, as she rolls herself into a ball and clutches her sides. You are powerless to help and feel a sense of frustration, anger and worry at seeing her moaning in pain on the ground.<br /><br />"I'm sorry that had to happen to you," you blurt out. "Why did they have to come here? Why did they have to attack you? Why do people have to try and get what isn't theirs, in an underhanded way!" As you talk, your anger is growing, in leaps and bounds. But, the sound of Lesley's groaning stops that anger from exploding. You reach out to her and smooth the hair away from her face. Then you try to help her up. She can barely sit up, at first. The blood is drained from her face. But soon, her blood pressure returns to normal. Then she's able to stand on her feet with you as a support. She sways, dizzy, for the first minute. "How are we going to get you down the ladder?" you think out loud. She speaks, then, in a weak voice.<br /><br />"Don't worry, I'll climb down after you go down. Just watch out for me, that I don't fall off the ladder." She gives a weak laugh as the silliness of that statement filters through her brain. "I'm hurting but I'll live, I think." You nod, but you're worried about her, still. But, you trust her judgment. Slowly, you climb down, looking up at her. She manages it fine. You take her by the hand, idly noticing the scattered groceries, on the floor of the Cleft. Heading into the kitchen, you sit her in the chair, and you get a clean cloth. After wetting it, with some water, you clean off the dried up blood on her face. Although a lot of it is still fresh. She's wincing in pain as you do it as gently as you can.<br /><br />"I'm sorry if it hurts but I should try and get you cleaned up." You are worried, in the meantime, knowing that you've not seen the last of these idiots who did this to Lesley. That thought is on her mind as well.<br /><br />"What did they want?" is her question after a quiet bit, where you keep trying to dab off the blood gently. It doesn't come off easily. You set down the cloth and stand there, jawing clenching, in anger, at what they've done to Lesley.<br /><br />"They wanted the D'ni linking book to the city," you say, in a tight voice. "I'm going to have to take the linking books and store them elsewhere. This just is not safe enough anymore," you state firmly. She nods, agreeing with you completely. That's a sad fact that has just been made very obvious by this brazen outcome of this day's events.<br /><br />You head to your room, expecting to see a mess. It's not far off from looking as though a tornado has ripped though it. "Oh my," says Lesley, as she is behind you. The trunk is a lot more worse for the wear, having had a axe chopping away at it. But the lock has held and your books are safe.<br /><br />"At least the trunk withheld their attack," you say, feeling an immense sense of anger at the destruction wrought on the lovely old trunk. Chips of woods have splintered off it, as they chopped away at the lock, and around it. The top of the trunk is all mangled, chopped wood now. You stand, hands clenching, furious, wanting to strangle someone, or something, who would wrought this destruction. An overwhelming anger surges through you, as though it's being poured into your veins through an intravenous connection. "Damn them!" you spit out, the words slicing through the air. Mutely, Lesley turns. She gets a broom and dustpan from the kitchen and returns. As you see her begin to pick up the rug to take it and shake it outside, you shake yourself out of your anger. Retrieving the blanket from the floor where it had been heaped, you help to clean up. It's a quiet few minutes of work between the two of you. Then you retrieve your keys and kneel in front of the trunk. You fit the key into the lock. The lock is rough with the axe chops on it. It springs open and you open the trunk. Retrieving your Relto book, you stand up. "I'll take the books to my Relto, and store them there, then I'll find a hiding spot for my Relto book here in the Cleft," you say to Lesley. "Would you like to come with me and bring an armful of books? That way, it'll take less time for us to do it, and the sooner we do it, the safer we will be." She nods in agreement.<br /><br />"Yes, I do think that very wise. Let's get that done as soon as possible." She steps towards you, laying the broom aside. You retrieve a few books and hand them to her and then offer your Relto book to her. She's gone in an instant. You retrieve a few book yourself. Then, carefully locking the trunk, you link to Relto as well, gone in a flash. You materialize there, standing on the cliff. She is there, as well, standing in awe at the view. It is an amazing sight for her, this Relto island in the clouds. A small island, with a hut and a waterfall. It is alone among the clouds with smaller islands surrounding it. There are trees growing, and birds chirping. A lovely, little tranquil spot of refuge amongst the clouds. You lead the way to the door and open it. The dust inside is stirred up, with your movements as you walk in. It's been a long time since you came here. You wrote this age, when you were very young. Your father thought you silly for writing such a simple, silly age. But you enjoyed linking here and having fun, pretending. It was your little fun age, to do with, what you wanted. You indicate an old bookcase, mutely, with your hand, as the point of your interest.<br /><br />"There, that's where we'll put these. They can sit there. I hope they'll be safe." You place your armful of book onto the shelves. Lesley does the same.<br /><br />"What is this place? How does it exist?" she asks, after you've turned away from the bookcase and are standing there, in the hut, dust motes dancing in the air between you, in the simple stream of light coming in the door.<br /><br />"I wrote this age when I was young. It was the first one I wrote. I had fun here when I was little and learned about creating things for pleasure." You shrug your shoulders, not sure that she'll completely understand you or your motivations. She nods, accepting this explanation.<br /><br />"Well, we better get the rest of the book, hadn't we?" she states, getting back to the real topic of why you are here.<br /><br />"Yes, let's go!" you state, holding out your Cleft book for her, to link with. She's gone in a flash. You link behind her.<br /><br />As you materialize, again, in the Cleft, in your room, you see her standing there, waiting for you. She's still so beautiful for you to look at. Her clothes are dirty and dusty. Her face is red and sore looking. Her hair is messy looking and she looks like she's been through a dust storm. But to you, a warm, beautiful woman, whom you know, loves you. You step towards her, and open your arms. The two of you kiss, and you whisper "I hope you're okay. I'm sorry you got so hurt by all this." She hugs you tightly.<br /><br />"Yes, it was a terrible shock, wasn't it?" she says, muffled, with her head turned to the side. The rough material of your shirt is hard on her tender, scraped skin, and you realize this when she flinches away. "But, I'm here for the long haul with you, you know," she states, her voice louder and more sure sounding. You smile at her, and gently trail your thumb across her cheek. Your admiration for this woman just grew again. It's a warm, swelling of emotion you feel.<br /><br />"Let's get the rest of the books taken on this trip, okay?" you say. You both smile at each other, glad that you took a brief minute to get close again. The day's events just threw the nice part of it away. You unlock the chest again, and retrieve another armful of books for her. Then you hold open your Relto book and she's gone, just like that. You get the last of the books. Included in this bunch are your fathers papers in the old, leather bag that you retrieved from the cave. This time, you leave the chest open, empty now, of the precious linking books, that someone would steal from you, if they could. You link out, feeling a sense of satisfaction that you've outwitted them.<br /><br />You materialize again, in Relto, and again, you both enter the hut, and place the books on the shelf. "There, that's the sum of them," you say, with some pride, in your voice. "They'll be safe, we hope, here, and now I'll have to hide this precious book, in the Cleft, to protect this place." You indicate the Relto with your hands. She nods her head, understanding your motivations. You hold the linking book, for the Cleft, open for her. Then you follow.<br /><br />After returning to the Cleft, you walk out of the bedroom. You have a good idea of where to store this precious Relto book you are holding. Lesley follows you, her words fading out as you walk away. "Where will you hide it?" is what she is asking. You don't speak, continuing to walk. At the very far end of the Cleft there is a small tree growing. You kneel and you unstack some stones, built up in a small cairn. What you uncover is a small, little hole under the base of the tree. The roots have filled in a bit of the hole but there is still, essentially, a gap for a body to fit in.<br /><br />"This is where I'll hide the Relto book," you state, definitively, continuing to unstack the stones, working quickly, your motions a blur. She kneels and helps you. Then you fit yourself into the hole and you disappear from view. She doesn't follow you because it's too small, too tight a space. Then you reappear, dirt on your clothes. "I found this while playing as a child. I haven't been in here in a long while. You can't tell this from the outside, but in there," you indicate with your hand, "is a small, natural cavern in the rock. Likely created by water, over the years." She nods, understanding what you meant.<br /><br />"That's very cool!" She helps you start replacing rocks again, to block up the opening from view. "But, if we want this to be easily accessible, we'll have to put something different in front of this opening, won't we?" she states, with a worried look on her face.<br /><br />"Hmm, yes, that would be wise. I'll have to think of something, maybe a large rock to make it easy to move." You both continue stacking stones to make it look like a natural, small cairn of stones. Once finished, you both head to the kitchen to wash your hands. Then you make some lunch, finally, both suddenly realizing you're very hungry and need food. "Well, with that nasty piece of business out of the way, we'll have to get you a Relto book too, won't we?" You smile in her direction. You retrieve your blank paper and your pens and ink from the desk in your study. Sitting at the kitchen table, working quickly, you write Lesley her own Relto book, for linking to your Relto age. As you finish it, she stands, marvelled at your skill.<br /><br />"That is amazing, Gareth, at how you do that!" Her face is a mixture of awe, admiration, and fear, somehow, at your obvious skill.<br /><br />"Let's try it and take a blanket and have some fun, okay?" you say, to her, gently, wanting to have some quiet time now, with this lovely lady. She nods and scared of this new adventure, still reaches out her hands and links. You follow her. Safely on Relto, you smile at her. "I did it! Woot! The skill is like riding a bicycle. Once taught, never forgotten." She smiles back at you.<br /><br />"Thank you!"<br /><br />You walk to the far end of Relto and spread the blanket. She follows behind you. You both sit on the blanket and then take a minute to enjoy the tranquility of the scene. A very peaceful, quiet time for both of you. A time of reflection, finally. "Well, we've found to our dismay that someone is going to use unscrupulous methods to get the D'ni linking book, aren't they?" you say, with a downcast face.<br /><br />"Yes, it would appear that way. Any idea who this could be? Directing this at you?"<br /><br />"I have no idea, at all, sadly. But, obviously, they aren't going to give up, I'd say. I think we should be ready for a visit any time, day or night, from those yobbos," you state, with an angry, tense sound to your voice. Lesley picks up on this tenseness in your voice and she leans towards you, reaching out. Her touch is a pleasant one, linking you again, together, through touch. A warm feeling spreads its way through your body at this simple touch of hers. A feeling of calm, and caring. It's a nice feeling. You reach out your hand and cover hers, with yours, and hold it. Then you turn towards each other and kiss. A mere touch of the lips to each others, but a warm, lovely feeling all the same.<br /><br />She mutters, "I'm so angry at your books being threatened like that, but right now, I've just got you on my mind." She reaches out, with both her hands, and grasps your face in her hands. Kissing you hard on the lips, you get the sense that she's got something on her mind, a wee bit.<br /><br />"How are you feeling?" you ask her. The concern in your voice is evident to her. You know, by her body movements that she wants you, but you don't feel that way towards her. It's more a concerned feeling you have now, seeing her bloodied and bruised.<br /><br />"I'm okay but a bit sore." She smiles tentatively at you, seeing you're not responding to her advances.<br /><br />"That's good to hear. Let's rest a bit here and then we'll think of a plan to keep us safe in the Cleft, okay?" You lie down on the blanket, patting it beside you, indicating mutely, that you want her to lie down, as well. You both lie down, looking up, hands clasped together, between you. A tranquil time of peace, for both of you.<br /><br />Continued in Chapter 12Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453059149331143480.post-35878031647234637832006-12-17T19:34:00.000-05:002006-12-17T19:35:00.993-05:00Chapter 10Chapter 10<br /><br />Continued from Chapter 9<br /><br />After you've eaten your breakfast, you sit, sipping your tea. She's humming as she does up the dishes, quickly. It's a lovely day, as usual, with the sun shining. You can hear the hawk giving its piercing cry but the sound is so familiar that it barely registers. "I'd like to take you with me today, to the Garden Age," you pipe up. She turns, surprised to hear you say that.<br /><br />"You mean, linking, with you?" she says, surprised at your statement. You sit there, smiling at her, acting like it's no big deal at all. But to her, it's a bit scary and bizarre since she's never done it before.<br /><br />"Yes, I'd like to show you what the Garden Age is like. How you feel when you link isn't pleasant but the feeling soon passes. The Garden Age is one of my favourites." She smiles at this news and you can tell she's excited at the thought.<br /><br />"Wow, yes, I'd love to try that! Let's get ready and go!" She scampers off to put on shoes. You follow her slowly and put on your boots while sitting on the bed. Then you take your keys and unlock the chest. You select the Garden Age book and hold it in your hand. You lock the chest again and stand up. She stands close by, an eager look on her face, watching you for your next move.<br /><br />You smile at her and open the book and say "Place your hand there. You'll feel as though you're being sucked into a small hole. But you'll emerge on the other side safely, don't worry! I'll be right behind you, promise." With that last instruction, she bites her lips and looks a bit worried. But then, she hesitantly reaches out her hand to the shimmering panel, and "whoosh", she's gone. You place your hand on the panel next, and "whoosh", you're gone too. Nothing left in the room anymore, to tell either of you were even there.<br /><br />She materializes, standing in a portico. Just as you'd said, she feels like throwing up for a minute, but is amazed at how fast that feeling passes. Then she starts to look around her. "Wow," is all that she can say. Everywhere, there are plants, bushes, trees and flowers growing. It's a veritable jungle. There is a blue sky with some clouds and a double sun. She can hear birds chattering in the distance. You link in, right beside her. As you materialize and sway she claps. "Hurray, you made it safely!" She cheers again with her hands in the air. You smile at seeing her happy.<br /><br />"Yes, this age is an amazing one, honestly. It's been around for a very long time and is very stable. Let's walk and I'll show you some of the lovely features." You take her hand and walk along, slowly, limping, on your sore ankle. It's almost normal today, but still a bit sore.<br /><br />After a short walk down a gravel path where she is looking from side to side and up and down and gasping in amazement, you reach a small area upon which sits a gazebo with benches. It's overlooking a sloping down area with a small stream. The babbling sound of the water is a pleasant backdrop. You sit on the bench with a sigh, glad to take the weight off your ankle. She doesn't sit down but goes over to the stream to have a look. It's a pretty little stream with fast running water. She soon returns to you and sits down. Her face has a bemused expression. She's obviously enjoying this adventure of yours, immensely. She turns and says "thanks for bringing me here. This is awesome!" You reach out and hold hands with her. It's a nice feeling of being connected again. Fun to share this lovely age with someone instead of always being by yourself. You see, once again, things through fresh eyes, that aren't jaded with familiarity. Her excitement rubs off on you and you find yourself smiling at her pointing out a bird. It's just a chickadee, after all, but to her, it's special. "Does anyone live here?" she asks, turning to look at you again.<br /><br />"I don't think so. I've never seen anyone around but I suppose others may come here, perhaps." You shrug your shoulders, unable to fully answer her. She lets it pass and doesn't continue with that line of questioning. "In most of the ages, I visit, there are no other visitors, because of no linking books available," you explain. "It's a lost art, that has almost completely died out, as far as I know. I may well be wrong, mind you, but so far, I don't think I'm wrong."<br /><br />"Oh that's interesting. So, what you are doing are actually creating these ages, you mean? Or are you just writing linking books to ages that already exist?"<br /><br />"Well, both, honestly. It's a case of having a few, very old ages that I've studied thoroughly and then applying that to write new ages where I can test new development, and take measurements. You see, I'd like to be able to rebuild the city of D'ni at some point. In the memory of the people of D'ni whom I truly admired. I didn't admire their rulers at all. But the people themselves, honest, hard-working folk, I'd like their memory to live on." At this statement from you, her face widens in surprise.<br /><br />"You mean, rebuilding a place from scratch?" Her voice is full of scepticism and wonder. She is thinking privately, "this man has insane dreams."<br /><br />"Hmm, yes, the thought has crossed my mind and I'm working on it, when I can. But don't worry, it's quite far in the future and I'll not be able to go it alone, believe me." You wink at her, as you are saying this.With this statement she laughs, relieved that you're not truly serious about this immense project. You change the subject with the statement, "I'm hungry. Let's go back to the Cleft and have some lunch."<br /><br />"Oh, okay, that sounds good, but I'm sorry to have to leave this place so soon! Can we come back and visit again?" She smiles eagerly at you. You smile back, benevolently, proud of her eagerness to explore.<br /><br />"Of course you can. I'll leave the book where you can link to this age when you want to." She smiles at this news. "We'll have to go back to the link-in spot. That's how it works. You have to link out again, and you return to the spot where you left from."<br /><br />"Ah, I see, that's how it works!" she replies and nods her head. You walk together, holding hands, back to the portico, where you arrived. She links first and then you follow her. As you materialize in the Cleft, in your room, there is the familiar, sick feeling. It's soon finished with. You walk with her to the kitchen and she makes lunch for both of you as you rest in a chair, again.<br /><br />Later that afternoon, you are discussing with her, the possibility of returning to the cave again, for more exploring. She's expounding on the assertion that she thinks it still too early for that long walk to the cave and then to do the climbing. But, you are so eager, to continue. It's like a itch, just dying to be scratched, for you, to explore more. You are explaining, again, your reasoning. But she is just as firm, in her stance, that it's been there for a darn long time, and it can stay that way, unexplored, for another few days. You laugh, trying to break this stalemate between you. "Our first good discussion, hey? Every relationship has one, doesn't it?" You wink at her. She laughs too, realizing you're changing the subject to cool off tempers. There's a silence for a few minutes, where you both are trying to think of a way to continue without getting too heated.<br /><br />"How many women have been in your life?" she asks, suddenly, out of the blue. It's a complete, off topic question that is thrown into the mix. You pause, wondering where this is coming from. You look at her and meet her gaze which is directed at you, level and square. She's not smiling but serious, now.<br /><br />"Didn't you know you shouldn't ask questions for which you may not like the answers?" you answer, obliquely. "Can I say that it doesn't really matter since none of them are here now?" You smile at her, deflecting her question. She realizes this quite evidently as the silence lengthens after your last statement.<br /><br />"Ah, the old answer a question with a question yourself game, huh?" she says, with a flat voice. She turns and walks out of the kitchen area. You're not quite sure what to do at this point. Then you think, "let her go and have some time on her own." You sit down again, in the chair from where you stood up, when she walked out. You pick up a book lying on the table, and start to read. Just because she's chosen to head off, doesn't mean you're going to run after her. You realize that she's independent. It's not a nice feeling to think that maybe, she's a bit hurt by your non-answer, but then again, not all in your life should be talked about with the same degree of openness. With that thought in your mind, you let your mind drift back to the two significant women in your life, other than your grandmother. You haven't really thought of either of them in a while. Both brought something special in your life, for a brief time, then they were gone. The first was a local girl whom you met at school. A long time ago, your grandma thought it best to fit in with the natives, so to speak. She enrolled you in school. You were a good student but an independent thinker. The girl liked that about you. You thought her funny and cute and for a while you thought she walked on water. She actually consented to being your girlfriend. It never did progress to anything more than kissing. But, her eye was caught by another, and she never gave you so much as a thought before hanging out with a popular guy. You were sadly jaded with girls for a long time after that. The second woman in your life, that really meant something, then comes to mind. That line of thought picks off the scab on the old wound. It's a deep one, that you thought well healed by now. She was special to you. Your wife. The love of your life, or so you thought. You met when she was young, and foolish, and silly, and wanting a man to take care of her. She fell for your good manners and your kind attitude. But, what she didn't realize was important to you, was your grandmother, and the books, and the Cleft, and all that meaning behind them all. The circumstances behind the meeting of you two were fairly simple. It was at a friend's place, where you two were both single. A barbeque, where, as these things happen, you get talking, and something clicks with the person. She seemed interested in you, and you were interested in her. After a few meetings, it really seemed special between you. She seemed to really like your grandmother after meeting her. Being an honest man, you married her, feeling it was right between you. But, she quickly grew tired of the Cleft and the lifestyle you were able to offer her. She had no interest in your dreams, your books. She broke your heart, with a letter one day, left on your bed. Folded within it, was her wedding ring. She wrote down that she was sorry to do this, but she couldn't live a lie any longer, and she was leaving to live life in the city. She'd send divorce papers for you to sign and could you please send them back. She ended it with a line that drove the knife home. "I loved you once but the love has died like the violets under your boots. I'm sorry. Goodbye." With that, your love for her died as well. But the tears still came. Because, yes, you did love her, and wanted her to love your life and what you wanted to offer her. You didn't want to bend her to fit in with your life but have her bend to fit, of her own accord.<br /><br />With these thoughts coursing through you, you realize that tears are streaming down your cheeks. The emotions are bubbling again to the surface. Long hidden, deep within, sad still. It's a wound, still there, in your psyche. Never to be truly healed but glossed over, surface healed, until the next time you think of it. Your thoughts are, that you forgive her for her hurting you, and you say a silent prayer to her health and happiness, wherever she may be. You think, then of your grandmother, as well. She really didn't like Denise, your wife, you know. She thought her shallow and silly. But she put up with her, for your sake. Your grandmother knew how deeply you'd been hurt. But she'd never spoken of it, after she'd left you. It was a closed subject, which was fine for you. With the death of your grandmother, the pain of Denise's leaving was, again, so fresh, so painful. The betrayal hurt even more. You say a prayer for your grandmother, thinking of her, too, at this time. Missing her is still right there, as a very present part of your soul.<br /><br />You don't realize it, but as you've been sitting there, thinking all these old thoughts, Lesley has returned. She's hovering in the doorway, indecisive for a change. She sees you sitting there with a far-away gaze. There are tears on your cheeks and she hears you sniff. She breaks the silence with a simple question. "What are you thinking about?" You are startled by her voice and half jump out of your chair at the sound.<br /><br />"Past loves," you say, with a sad smile, once you catch your breath. "Come and sit down and let me explain, okay?" She nods and sits. Her face is passive. She's not giving off friendly vibes but isn't cold and withdrawn either. The air has a slight chill to it, as though the two of you are less friendly with each other now. It's barely perceptible but there, nonetheless. The late sun of the afternoon streams in the window and the doorway. In the stream of sunshine, dust motes dance. She regards you with a steady gaze. Awaiting your revelations.<br /><br />You pause, wondering where the words are going to come from. Not quite sure where to begin, but knowing you have to try to explain to Lesley why you are so tender about certain things. "I've had two significant ladies in my life, and both, in their way, have hurt me deeply," you begin, after a moment more, of silence. Your words hang there, in the void of silence as she digests them and waits for more. "The first one was a girl at school whom I liked. The moment she said she'd be my girlfriend was a great day for me. But she left me for another guy whom she thought a better catch. That was tough." Shrugging your shoulders, you stop to take a deep breath and she murmurs "I'm sorry to hear that."<br /><br />"But the person who really deeply hurt me was my wife who left me." You hold her gaze steadily with that statement, unwavering. Her eyes widen in shock as she registers the significance of what you've just said. Her hands clench in pressure.<br /><br />"Your wife? What happened? When was this?" She leans slightly forward now, eager to hear your response. She's all attention now.<br /><br />"About 5 years ago. It was a brief marriage, until she got tired of me and my lifestyle and my grandmother and my books." You snort in derision now, tired at the thought of her again. The sadness has left, to be replaced with hurt, and anger, again. "We're divorced now, and that's the way it will stay. I wish her well, but don't honestly care if I ever see her again. As you can tell, this isn't exactly the Ritz for accommodation." Again, you spread your arms, silently indicating the Cleft and all that it encompasses.<br /><br />"Gareth, I'm so sorry to hear this. I didn't mean to stir up old wounds by asking about past loves. I'm very sorry for having done that." She hangs her head in despair, feeling that she's hurt you, on purpose.<br /><br />"Oh well, better to have it out in the open, isn't it? No longer a secret now, but a past event, not to be brought up again. See, not all questions have easy answers to them, my dear." You stand up, at that point, and reach for her hands. You pull her up too. She stands up willingly. You hug each other. Glad to be friendly again, not cold towards each other. It's nice to have her warm body next to yours, you realize. "I was wondering if I should follow you, but then thought, no, she's a big girl and is independent and can find her own way back." You kiss her forehead.<br /><br />"Mm, yes, I was a bit angry at your non-answer but I understand now, why you didn't cough up the answer. I just took a walk around, up top and thought about all the nice things you've brought into my life in the last week." Her voice is muffled as she speaks into your shoulder. Her breath is warm on your shirt and you can feel it through the material. You continue to hold each other, knowing that you need each other now. "I love you, I know," she says, very softly, and shyly. Then she looks up at you. She repeats it, louder, more sure of herself. "I know I love you." Then she pulls you down to her mouth. You kiss.<br /><br />After a hug, she speaks again. "I'm jealous, honestly, to think of anyone else having your love. I want it all for me. Is that wrong in any way? That's where that question about how many women were in your life before me came from. Again, I'm sorry if I've caused old wounds to open." You shake your head negatively and just hug her tightly. No words are necessary at this stage between you. You kiss her and then you whisper to her "I love you too." It's an incredibly tender moment between you. Both hurt and scarred by previous events, but trusting in each other, now.<br /><br />"Let's make some dinner and have some food to digest, shall we?" is how you break up this pleasant interlude. She agrees and helps you prepare dinner. It's a nice affair, with pleasant conversation, steering away from controversial topics, on purpose. You enjoy hearing her laugh again. The air is cooler because of the sun going down, but the atmosphere in the kitchen is warm and friendly. For light, you use a coal oil lamp that burns steady and bright in its glass enclosure. A few flies dance around the edge of it, flirting with the light, attracted to its deadly lure. After the dishes are done up, you get your guitar again, and sit on the ledge just outside the kitchen door, where you can see the sky. It's a familiar perch to you. But this night, you decide to ask Lesley what a few of her favourites are and try to pick them out on the guitar. She requests an old favourite of Blackbird. She sings along with it. You attempt it and don't do too badly at all. She applauds your effort and appreciates your skill. For such a simple thing, it's a warm feeling of pleasure for you to receive her praise.<br /><br />"Where do you think the stars end?" she says, after a quiet, contemplative time, where you are simply strumming a quiet tune on the guitar then stop. "Where does the galaxy end and the next one start? Are we all part of one? Is it ever going to be known, I wonder?" Her voice is quiet and plaintive, reflecting the depth of her thoughts. So vast and obscure as to be unthinkable.<br /><br />"Wow, you sure do know how to think in large terms." She laughs at your comment. She sticks her tongue out at you, being silly for a moment. You think her cute and funny when she's silly like that. "Well, I don't honestly know, and we'll never know. But we can only guess and marvel at the beauty of them all, can't we?" Your tone turns serious. She nods, staring up at the sky again. You look too, and set down the guitar. It's an amazing spectacle, with no artificial light to speak of, to dim the expanse. The dark blue black of the sky is majestic. The stars seem to flicker off and on with different intensities. There's a definite chill in the air now. The crickets are doing their usual singing.<br /><br />She shivers and says "I'd like to head to bed, okay? Been a long day and I'm tired."<br /><br />"Oh, okay, let's head to bed then," you say, standing up. You turn out the lantern in the kitchen and get your torch from its hook. With its steady light you make your way together to your room. Quietly, you both undress. She puts on a nice pair of pyjamas that are warm looking. Brushing your teeth is the last thing you do, before settling down in bed, beside her. You snuggle together, under the covers, getting warm and cozy.<br /><br />Lying in the circle of your arms, Lesley says, "Mm, I love this, being here with you, under the covers." It's quiet in the dark as you both digest your thoughts of the day. She says, after a short pause, "Gareth, I'll try not to hurt you like your ex-wife did. I don't know why she did what she did, but I can't see myself saying goodbye to you and our love, I promise." Her hand snakes out and finds your hand and gives it a squeeze. You turn and kiss her on the lips, wordlessly thanking her for her declaration. "You've been hurt enough, haven't you, by life, and now it's time for you and I to have some happiness, together, isn't it?" She kisses you again, after that statement. It's a nice way to end the day.<br /><br />Continued in Chapter 11Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453059149331143480.post-53913955985055265962006-12-17T19:33:00.000-05:002006-12-17T19:34:03.443-05:00Chapter 9Chapter 9<br /><br />Continued from Chapter 8<br /><br />During the night, the temperature drops. She wakes up enough, to realize that the covers have slipped off her. She's cold and shivering. She adjusts the covers to make herself warm. As you sleep, she presses herself against your long body. "Oh I'm so glad he's back safely," is the thought on her mind as she lays there. Her arm is across your chest. She can hear your even, soft breathing as you lie on your back. As she lays there, she thinks back to making love with you. She smiles that deep secretive smile, that a woman has, when she's deeply happy. Her breathing increases in tempo, as her blood starts to stir, at the memories of your hands upon her. What the feelings are, and the reaction her body has, to your touch. She's letting herself think about it, and getting aroused at the thought, of it all. "I love when he touches me right there." She slips off her pants carefully, trying not to wake you, with her actions. After she lays down again, her hand finds its way to her secret place. It's a warm, comforting feeling again, for her, one sought many times before. But now, with her body beside yours, it's a bit more sinful, a bit more delicious than ever before. She's feeling somewhat dirty about it, but yet feeling bold and wanting to feel that excitement again. "I love this feeling," she thinks, as she shivers in delight, knowing just where to touch.<br /><br />Somehow, in the depths of your sleep, you feel her movements. You awake, beside her, slowly. Her body is arching, and you can hear her softly moaning as your senses gather themselves. You're not sure, at first, what is happening, but then you realize, as you turn towards her, that she's in the midst of her own personal little heaven. It's a startling moment for her when you move, your body a still statue, beforehand. She blushes deeply, realizing now that you are awake, and aware. "You're awake," she states the obvious.<br /><br />"Mm, yes, I'm half awake," you say, gathering her to you with your arm. Your lips find each other and you kiss. Her blushing face feels hot to your gentle hand on it. "What's happening?" you say, half jokingly. You're aware of what she's been doing, but want her to admit it. It's not really important, but just a silly feeling of pleasure that you have in realizing what she's been up to.<br /><br />"Um, I was thinking about you, and how good you make me feel," she admits, in a rush. She's still blushing like crazy, but it's quite dark and you can't see her face. But you can feel it. "I was helping myself," she further admits. Your hand finds her breast under the covers and feels it, gently, through her t-shirt and bra. It causes her to catch her breath, and to swallow. Your lips capture hers again in a long, deep, slow kiss that sends shivers down her body.<br /><br />"Does this help?" you say, after you take your lips away and hover there, an inch from hers. It's a tense moment of anticipation between you two, with the passion so evident in both of you. She moans "yes, yes it does, oh kiss me again," and pulls your head to hers, hard. Your mouths fuse together and it's hot, passionate kissing. Her arms lock around your neck. Your one arm gathers her to you, holding her in tightly.<br /><br />Your hand finds its way under her top and inside her bra. The fingers stroke her breast gently. Her nipple rises in a tight little bud, so excited at the touch. Her body arches towards you, exciting you. This feeling is such pleasant anticipation of the joy to come. Her upper leg rises and crosses over your leg, her heel digging in, pulling you towards her even more. There is a straining of your bodies towards each other.<br /><br />Without further ado, you remove her top and bra and throw them aside. Then, in the darkness, you feel her lips upon you. She takes off your pyjamas quickly with your help. It's a feeling of such love and joy between you now. Breathless anticipation, hearts beating fast and furious, lips apart, breath coming fast, no thoughts present but those right there. Hands touching in places where the reaction is so pleasant. With no hesitation you crouch over her. Fingers lock together on both your hands after she helps guide you. "Oh Gareth, you are amazing," she moans as you sink into her warm depths. It's a hot, delicious sense of being totally connected, even in the dark. Even without enough light to see her face, you know what the expression is, on her face. The wanting of you in her eyes is there, you know, and it feels so very good. She pants in ecstasy, sending you into a lovely spinning spiral of joy to hear that from this woman. It makes you feel such a man to satisfy her so thoroughly. As her body arches under you and you feel her fingers tightening around yours, it's a wonderful feeling.<br /><br />Then it's over, just as soon as it began. You sink to the bed, feeling weakened and satisfied, and roll onto your back. She smiles in the dark, and you hear the smile in her voice as she whispers "wow, just wow, is all I can say, and thanks." Her hand finds yours in the dark and squeezes it.<br /><br />"Mm, let's get one thing straight okay? Let's not say thanks every time please?" you say, in a soft voice, with a laugh. "It's a given that we thank each other for the gift of loving of each and wanting to show that love, okay?" She laughs and nods her head beside you.<br /><br />"Yes, that's quite true," she agrees, verbally. She pulls up the covers over you both. You lay on your back, welcoming her again into the circle of your arms. It's a warm, soft, connected feeling now, where you are both satisfied.<br /><br />"So, did you miss me today?" you ask Lesley, your hand absentmindedly stroking her shoulder and arm. It's not really an important question but one you feel you should ask, knowing that yes, you missed her a lot, yourself.<br /><br />"Oh yes, I missed you a lot! The Cleft is just so empty without your wonderful presence to make me laugh, and make me feel loved," she admits, freely. "I cried after dinner, when you still weren't back. I was worried. I am so happy that you came back safely!" She hugs you tightly with her one arm across your chest. You kiss the top of her head, loving having her so close, and worried about you.<br /><br />"It's nice to come back and know there is somebody waiting for me here," you admit, with a broad smile, in the dark. "Somehow, having a warm female body in my bed is just the ticket for a good nights sleep," and a deep rumble of laughter emits from you. She laughs out loud too, and giggles that silly little giggle you're growing to love. The air of romantic, passionate sex between two lovers has given way to a silly, fun, giggly time where you both feel young and free, and able to be silly without looking foolish to each other.<br /><br />"I want to have breakfast with you in the morning," she says, after a short pause, while you both stop giggling. You murmur in the affirmative, feeling tired again. She's smiling again, listening to your breathing and feeling your chest gently move up and down with each exhalation. As you drift off to sleep, you think again of her and her hair spread out on your pillow. How pleasant a sight it was to see, early in the morning, in the early morning light of the Cleft. Her thought is of your hands exciting her as she drifts off into the land of dreams.<br /><br />In the morning, it's a slow coming to consciousness for you. You wake up and remember what occurred in the night-time. There is a smile on your face as you recall it. You turn your head and see her there, sleeping, still. She's on her stomach, her face pressed to the side on the mattress. Her face has a gentle, soft innocence about it. You lay there, not wanting to disturb her. Not wanting to rush away today, but to give in to her wishes of wanting breakfast shared with you. You continue to lay there, on your back, hands behind your head. You think about the previous day. You think also, about the cave, and your father's remains there. A frown crosses your brow. You test your ankle as you lay there. Finally, this morning, it is pain free as you rotate your ankle. Then you settle down again, thinking still more. It's a quiet, contemplative time for you, where you are deep in thought. You don't sense her stirring and awakening beside you because of your deep thought. The first thing you really notice is a soft hand snaking out in your direction and then touching your cheek. You turn your head and smile at her. Her hand rests upon your cheek softly with the palm warm against your chin. "Good morning" you say, and then pull her to you for a kiss.<br /><br />"Good morning back to you. How long have you been awake?" she asks, eyes twinkling in joy, happy to see you there, beside her. Her thumb rubs against your beard, loving the feeling of it under her hand.<br /><br />"Oh, about 10 minutes I think," you say, absentmindedly. You pull her to you again, snuggling with her. "Nice way to wake up," you say, after a few minutes of quiet between you. Her fingers are gently playing with your chest hair, liking the feel of it too, between her fingers.<br /><br />"I can't get enough of you, you know," she say, softly. "I don't want to be apart from you very much at all, I know, and I love having the freedom to touch you now. Before, when we had known each other for a day or so, I just had this illogical urge to reach out and touch you. It was bizarre and strange. I've never felt so strongly attracted to somebody before as I have with you. It's a strange feeling indeed. I feel like my being here was directed by a higher being. Why, indeed did I take that road instead of the interstate highway? Why did I feel the call to come to New Mexico, after all? It's just all so strange, really, isn't it?" As her voice trails off, you nod in agreement with her.<br /><br />"Yes, I've felt this strange, illogical attraction to you as well from the first day. A feeling of knowing you liked me, despite us not knowing each other well at all. But an attraction stronger than ourselves, pulling us together. Like a river of feeling that carried me away on its current." As you finish talking, you hug her to you, glad this openness is between you now. "It's such a relief to be able to talk to you about everything so easily. You are an amazing woman. I don't think I've met anyone like you before. Where I could talk about it all. The linking books, I mean, and taking you into that cave. You do realize that you're a special person, don't you?" and you turn her head towards you, with your hand on her chin. You gaze into her blue eyes. You're happy to see a smile pulling up her mouth at the corners and yet detect a slight sheen of tears there. "Why the tears?" you ask gently. She sniffs and clears her throat.<br /><br />"Mm, just such a sweet guy, you are," she says, in a soft voice, tremulous with emotion. She hugs you deeply. You can tell she's emotional about it all and leave it be. Simply wrapping your arms around her, and hugging her in tightly to you. You know her enough by now, that she'll pull herself together to talk, after a bit. She's a strong woman, you know, and wants to talk on an equal level with you. That's one of the things you appreciate about her - her level headed approach to things, in general, so far, anyhow. Her sense of humour and of adventure too. You realize that in your arms is an amazing woman who, for whatever reason, has decided that you are her special person in life. She's given you the incredible gift of her love and her trust. It's a bit overwhelming in its intensity as you realize the implications of it all but a feeling of happiness, too, settles over you. It's what you realize you've been missing, without having put your finger on it.<br /><br />Softly, she starts to speak. "Gareth, for so long, I've thought that I'd never have the chance to have a child. But now, with you, if you're still serious about it, maybe I do have that chance. Is it too crazy a thing for me to bring up at this time? If so, I'll just drop it, and that will be fine." She speaks, in a rush now, staring intently at you, awaiting your answer. Her body is tense. You know that she wants you to say yes, at least, and that a negative answer would hurt her deeply. You've thought it over also, as you worked yesterday. How strange a thing it is that, with a woman you've known for a few days, suddenly you are talking about a baby. But, like most things in life, you know there is no easy answer as to why this is happening. As a result you decide to speak your honest mind to her.<br /><br />"Lesley, I thought this over a lot yesterday, as well as you did, likely. It's very strange to have fallen in love with you as soon as I did. To have the depth of caring that I feel for you. So, when you ask me that question and I give you this answer, know that I've searched my heart and mind as best as I can. I think that we really can't say why we care for each other, can we?" She shakes her head, knowing that. "So, really, there is no real time limit to say that you have to know a person a certain period of time before things are decided, right?" You look at her, hoping she gets your train of thought. She's watching you, following it. "So, as a result, I think that if you really want this, who's to say it's wrong? If it truly is something you want, I'd be happy to help. If it doesn't work, well, it won't be from lack of trying." Your chest rumbles with laughter at that line. Because you know darn well, that any chance you get, you're going to be making love to this woman. She gets the gist of your last line and laughs too, but is crying too, with happy tears.<br /><br />"I feel so silly to cry with happy tears, but that's what they are. Thank you Gareth, for that lovely, long explanation. At least I know you've thought about it, long and hard, and it's not an idle whim of yours." She kisses you in thanks. You feel warm and fuzzy towards her. Your fingers lock together. "Can I stop taking the birth control pills as today then?" she asks gently. You nod in answer, smiling at her. She smiles and kisses you in thanks again. "Thank you" she whispers, through the tears. All the silly worry of what will happen if and when she does get pregnant is washed away in the knowledge that now she may achieve a long-held dream. A very precious thing for her, you realize, as you feel her gently sobbing. "I'm sorry that I'm crying but it's been such a long time to think I had no hope," she whispers, head buried in your chest. You hold her tightly, not in a hurry at all. Realizing she just needs you, to be there, and to hold her.<br /><br />After a nice, long period of gentle hugging you gently push her away. "I'm hungry" you state, openly and make the first move to get out of bed. She willingly follows, pulling on her clothes as you dress also. It's not long before you're both walking to the kitchen, with her helping you along. She gets the kettle on. You ask her what she'd like to have to eat. You both settle on eggs and toast. After you look in the fridge you realize she's been to town. "Thanks for getting supplies" you say, with a smile in her direction. She smiles back at you, feeling happy and pleased. It's a lovely start to the day, for both of you.<br /><br />Continued in Chapter 10Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453059149331143480.post-7013980872570808292006-12-15T12:35:00.000-05:002006-12-17T19:33:15.241-05:00Chapter 8Chapter 8<br /><br />Continued from Chapter 7<br /><br />The next morning, you wake up slowly and become aware of her beside you. She's still asleep. Her hair is spread out on the bed, looking like a soft cloud around her head. Her face is peaceful in repose. The soft, early morning light is gentle on her skin. You get out of bed, trying not to disturb her. You dress quickly and pick up your keys slowly and gently so that they won't rattle. Looking down at her, you smile. Then you take your keys and carefully unlock the chest and remove a linking book to the Age you want to test. You lock the chest again. Making your way to the kitchen, with a limp, you grab something to eat quickly for breakfast. You pack a lunch. Then you write her a note.<br /><br /> I've gone on a journey to that Age that I was discussing last night. Please don't worry about me. I'll try to return by the end of today but if I'm not back, don't worry. Make yourself at home, and you're welcome to take the truck and go into town, if you'd like. I'll hope you'll enjoy your day. Take care.<br /><br /> XOXOXOXO<br /><br /> Gareth<br /><br />You take the truck keys off your key ring and leave them beside the note that is propped up on the counter. Then you link out. The sick, linking feeling lurches your stomach as you feel yourself sucked into the vortex of the linking panel. It's not a pleasant feeling but soon over with. You materialize in your testing Age and get to work.<br /><br />Lesley wakes up slowly. She's not exactly sure where she is, for the first minute. Then, as she come to, she recalls why she's in your bed. She smiles and curls around. But doesn't see you there. Her face falls and the smile disappears. "Where is he?" is the thought on her mind almost instantly. But as she quickly dresses, her mind is still on the night before. Inside, she's smiling still at the feelings and the knowledge that yes, she's a woman now in every sense of the word. It's a warm glow. At the back of her mind is the thought that now, perhaps, the dream of a baby isn't so far away as to be too painful to think about. But she doesn't allow herself to go there.<br /><br />She walks to the kitchen, expecting to see you there. Her eyes spy your note and she reads it. Her face loses its smile that appeared when she saw the note sitting there. Talking to herself, she mutters, "He's gone already and I didn't get a chance to say good luck. I do hope he's all right." With that behind her, she sets about making breakfast for herself, and a cup of tea. "Mm, I do love a cup of tea," crosses her mind once she's poured a steaming mug and is standing at the doorway surveying the Cleft. The sun is shining now, and the little violets are opening their faces toward the light.<br /><br />Her mind goes over the last few days as she leans in the doorway sipping her tea. She smiles and sighs. She's a happy woman now. Not filled with angst and worry any more but satisfied. She decides that she'll take you up on your offer of your truck, and take herself to town. She puts on a bit of makeup, quickly, and gets her wallet from her knapsack. She climbs out of the Cleft and makes her way to the truck. It starts easily.<br /><br />Soon, she's on her way into town, with a grocery list also in her pocket. "May as well get what we need while I'm there," is her thought. She's humming along with the radio as she drives. She goes first to the garage where her car has been worked on. She asks if it's fixed. Once she has a look at the repair bill, she pays for the repairs. "Thanks very much for doing the work," she thanks the mechanic. "Can I leave the car here until I get another person to drop me off here to pick it up?" He agrees and that's that. It's settled that the car will stay in his lot until she returns for it.<br /><br />With that worry off her mind, she goes shopping. She says hi to Sarah, at the store, who eyes her, with questions exploding in her head. She picks up the groceries she thinks you may need for the both of you. She also picks up a few novels from the bookstand. "For reading while he's gone off exploring," is her thought. It's a fun time for her as she explores the little town. There isn't much there. It's a basic small town with a gas station that is also the garage, a grocery store that is a post office, video rental, and gossip centre, all in one. There is a dentist's office and a lawyer's office as well, with a few small mom and pop shops scattered along the length of the one main street. It's a dusty place, with not much life. She gets the feeling of eyes watching her, unseen, but still there. Suspicious, sort of, but not unfriendly. She shakes off the shivers she gets and gets back into the truck with the groceries.<br /><br />After she returns to the Cleft, and puts away the groceries, she has lunch. Once that's done, the silence gets to her. "How on earth did Gareth live here alone for so many months with no one about? How does he do that?" She picks up one of the novels she bought and begins to read it. She sits in a patch of sunlight on one of the ledges. It's a warm, cozy spot. It's a good way to pass the time. But her attention drifts away from the book. "Maybe I could have a child now, with Gareth, as the father," is her thought, as she sits there. For years now, she's lived with the very real possibility of never having a child to love, of her own. She didn't want to adopt, having the work of being a single mum and trying to earn a living, as well. But, now, suddenly, life has given her a chance. Her thoughts keep going over that possibility.<br /><br />As the shadows lengthen, and the Cleft begins to darken, she begins to realize her stomach is growling. "I'll make some dinner and hopefully Gareth will return and we may eat together." She prepares a nice stir fry and eats it, alone. She feels lonely now, without you there. It is a growing darkness without you. Not just a physical loneliness, but a mental one as well. As though, with your presence, she gains strength, somehow. She washes up the dishes, and puts your dinner in the fridge. Then, she stands at the doorway of the kitchen. She leans there, again, loving the feeling of warmth that the rocks give off. The night sky is just discernible above the edge of the cliff. The stars are little twinkling masses in the giant, velvet blue expanse of the evening sky. It is a moment of feeling so tiny, so alone in this world for her. She shivers, drawing her arms about her. "I need him to be here, with his arms around me, to feel whole again," she thinks to herself.<br /><br />She makes her way to your room. She throws herself upon your bed and gathers your pillow to her, hugging it tightly. Tears seep out from beneath her lashes. She wishes fiercely "Oh Gareth, I hope you are okay. I want you to come back tonight." She lies there, grasping your pillow as tightly as she can, to her breast, and breathes in your scent. It's just faintly there. It's warm and comforting, in a way, but also sad, because you are not there in the flesh. She is trying to gather strength from the thought that yes, you'll come back. Continuing to cry softly, the tears slipping out from under her lashes, the worry in her mind overwhelms the thought that you'll be okay. The minutes stretch out into the half hour, and then she sleeps, the tears drying up upon her face, the worry gone from her mind.<br /><br />You have been working hard all day, only stopping for eating. While you were eating, you allowed yourself to think of Lesley. "I do hope she's not finding the Cleft lonely without me." You realize that yes, you do miss her, when you stop to think about her. You wonder what she is up to. You continue your work, taking measurements and readings. At last, you finish. You link back to the Cleft not aware of how long you've been there, working. It is the dark, deep night in the Cleft. You materialize in the same spot from where you linked out this morning, in the kitchen area. You are aware that it is late night there. You make your way to your room, slowly, upon your bad ankle. As you enter your room your eyes fall on your bed. Upon it, there is Lesley laying sound asleep in a curled ball, a pillow still firmly clenched in her arms, her hands lying softly upon the bed. Your face breaks into a gentle smile. You quickly undress yourself, and put on your pyjamas. Then you carefully lift her from the bed, and place her under the covers. She wakes up just long enough to realize what is happening.<br /><br />"Oh Gareth, you're home," she says, sleepily. She reaches to you with her arms. You willingly go to her, feeling her embrace. Your lips meet in a kiss. It's a sleepy one, full of love and trust. She's so tired that she can barely keep her eyes open but yet, the excitement of having you back is present there too, within her. "How did it go?" she asks.<br /><br />"We'll talk about it in the morning," you say, with a smile on your face, and a light feeling in your heart. She falls asleep again, quickly, content with your answer. You lay there, holding her, while she sleeps. Sleep is elusive for you this night as your mind travels over the day. It's been a long day but a fulfilling one too, because you've gotten the results you wanted. Somehow, coming home here, to have this woman here, in your bed, is just the perfect ending to a good day. With that thought entrenched in your mind, you snuggle under the covers a little more deeply and hug her a bit closer. Then, sleep slowly overtakes you as the scent of her flows over you, like a soft stream.<br /><br />continued in Chapter 9Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453059149331143480.post-60573519405869001982006-12-11T07:38:00.000-05:002006-12-11T07:39:22.883-05:00Chapter 7Chapter 7<br /><br />Continued from Chapter 6<br /><br />That evening, after dinner, you sit and play the guitar. It's a warm evening with the crickets chirping. The warm air is reflected from the heat stored in the rocks. You don't sing but just hum along as you pick out a pattern of notes. It's a quiet, contemplative action that you've been doing for many years, finding some comfort in the music that issues from your fingers and the guitar. Lesley sits and gazes off into space, lost in her own thoughts. You glance over to her, and then set down the guitar. "What are you thinking of?" you ask her, your attention focused on her now. The sound of your voice instead of the silent peace of the guitar music breaks her reverie.<br /><br />"Hmm, I was just thinking about back East, and if anybody really misses me," she replies, eyes downcast. She's not happy but not terribly sad either. It's an awkward silence after she speaks. You're not sure what to add to the conversation.<br /><br />"Well, it's their loss and my gain," you say, breaking the silence with a gentle teasing tone. She laughs out loud. It's a pleasing sound that is music to your ears. Her presence has really made a difference in your life for the brief time she's been in it. "I like having you around to talk to. I was lonely after my grandmother passed away, but who would want this?" You spread your hands, wordlessly encompassing the Cleft. She nods, understanding you.<br /><br />"This is what I needed too, a break away from the mundane office life, the oil reports, the backstabbing. This is getting back to having fun in life again, isn't it?" With that statement, she rises. She comes over and stands beside you. She places her hands on your shoulders and smiles down at you. "Yes, this is what I needed in my life now, for sure." She smiles a deep, secretive smile and then leans down and presses her lips to yours. Your arms raise up and your hands hold her head as you kiss each other. It's a wonderful kiss. So deep and needy on both of your parts.<br /><br />You stand up and pull her in tight to you. Your hands sit on her hips and the kissing resumes. Her hands are on your shoulders, pulling you into her. Your bodies are tightly fitted together, needing the closeness. "I think we should head to bed, don't you?" she says, seductively, after you both come up for air, after a few minutes of intense, passionate kissing. You smile at her, wanting this woman again.<br /><br />"Let's go," you command, taking her by the hand and limping your way along. Once in your room, it's so pleasant to once again undress each other in amongst the kisses and the hugs.<br /><br />"I feel so hot for you," she confesses, blushing like crazy. You don't respond to her, too intent on pulling her down with you to your bed. Her shyness soon disappears as you make her hum with pleasure. In the pleasant aftermath, she sighs in contentment. "How is it that it gets better each time?" she asks, grinning. Her beautiful eyes regard you in their gaze. Her smile is one of soft satisfaction. All is happy in this woman's world. "How can it feel so awesome when it's really just a physical act between two people?"<br /><br />"Ah well, that is one of the beautiful mysteries of making love, you see. We don't really know why it feels so good. But I do know, practice makes perfect, or so I've been told," you say, with a big grin. Your face is alight with the smile. Exuding a happy sense of contentment, as well. She laughs out loud again, loving that comeback of yours.<br /><br />"You're funny as heck at times, aren't you, and you like yanking my chain too?" she asks with a cocked eyebrow.<br /><br />"Guilty as charged ma'am," you reply. There is a lovely, light bantering tone between you two. It's done with very little shyness on her part and a lovely feeling of contentment in the air. Permeating the air is the scent of your lovemaking. It is warm and comfortable on the bed. You're both comfortable in your own skins, naked in front of each other. She rolls to sit on top of you, legs straddling your pelvis, in one quick moment. She leans forward, looking you intently in the eye. Leaning on her hands placed on either side of your head.<br /><br />"I'd not change a thing about you, you sweet man. I am so glad that my car broke down and that I met you. You've made my life a better place." With that lovely declaration, she leans forward and kisses you on the mouth deeply. You respond to her kisses. Her eyes are closed, intent on the feeling of it. You keep your eyes open, wanting to see her up close. It's a intense moment of love between you. As she break the kiss, she moves to lay with her head on your chest and hugs you tightly. Your arms go around her back and you gently scratch her back, unasked. She says, in a soft voice, "oh that's lovely feeling! Thanks!" It's a soft, gentle action that prolongs the closeness between you both. There is a real air of minds meeting in unison between you two.<br /><br />She rolls off you and sits, knees pulled up to her chin. "What do you think will happen next with the linking books?" she asks, looking at you. You continue to lay there, and stretch out one hand towards her and place it on her knee. It's a connection between you.<br /><br />"I need to test the linking books more," you reply, in a serious tone. "I've written these linking books but I'm not sure if they are stable or not. I've got links back but it's a little nerve wracking to experience it. You get a sick feeling as you're sucked into the vortex of the linking panel. Not sure if you'll be able to come back."<br /><br />"Can I see them?" she asks, in a innocent voice.<br /><br />"Yes, of course," you say, rising up and retrieving your keys from your pants pocket from where they are lying on the floor. You unlock the chest at the end of your bed. You select a book and open it. You hand it to her and warn her, "don't place your hand on the shimmering panel there otherwise you'll link to the Garden age." She nods, understanding the power of this linking book.<br /><br />"Amazing stuff!" she exclaims, looking at the book and the shimmering panel. It's like a pane of glass inside the book cover. A shimmery pane of glass that is a linking panel. You stand there, with a bemused expression on your face, happy that this woman whom you've come to admire, and love and care for, doesn't think you a nut for talking about linking books.<br /><br />"I'm so happy that you actually seem to understand this concept and aren't running away in fright from a nut," you say, with a laugh in your voice.<br /><br />She laughs too and says, "Hmm, I do like science fiction and this is better than science fiction because it's science real!" You laugh at her description.<br /><br />"Yes quite true and quite real!" you exclaim. "My father taught me some of it when I was young, but mostly I learned on my own from reading, and the teaching of my grandmother. She was a wonderful teacher indeed."<br /><br />You take the book away from her, and place it in the trunk. You lock the trunk and place the keys on the bedside table. Then you lay back down again and she snuggles up to you, your bodies pressed together in their length, her head on your shoulder as your arm naturally curves around her. You pull the cover over you both. "This is nice," she says, with a lovely smile on her face, as you feel each others warmth under the cover. It's a warm, cozy feeling of safe haven for you both. Both needing the other to feel complete now, somehow. Not realizing before, what had been missed, but now, feeling all is right in the world.<br /><br />"In the morning I'd like to try linking to an Age that I've testing," you say, in a serious tone. She looks up at you.<br /><br />"Are you sure it's safe to do that?" she questions you.<br /><br />"Hmm, yes, I'm fairly sure I've got the Age written correctly," you reply, smiling. "I'll likely be there most of the day and return at some point. Don't worry too much about me, I've been doing this for a while, don't forget!" You tease her with your tone of voice and she picks up on the teasing tone and laughs.<br /><br />The two of you let sleep overtake you in each others arms. Her dreams are filled with hot, urgent hands on her body making her feel wonderful. Your body loves the feeling in the night of having her right there. It's a nice thing to have someone share your bed.<br /><br />Continued in Chapter 8Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453059149331143480.post-83682670523873661272006-12-09T05:39:00.000-05:002006-12-11T07:38:23.837-05:00Chapter 6Chapter 6<br /><br />Continued from Chapter 5<br /><br />As you lay there, on the bed with her, kissing, your mind thinks of something important. "Um, Lesley, I should bring this up. Are you on birth control at all?" It's a little pause, coming up for air, in this lovely pursuit of happiness between you.<br /><br />"Actually, yes, I am. Surprisingly enough, since I've never done this before. But yes, I am, for hormones." She reaches her mouth again to yours, eager to show you how much she wants you. You smile as your lips cover hers again.<br /><br />"I'm glad to hear that. It makes things easier," you say, as you take your lips away from hers, and kiss your way down her neck. Such a lovely lady to taste, you find. It is natural between you two, with no real shyness, but a feeling of natural consequences. Hearing her moans, as you stroke her, are a special music for you. Seeing her there, eyes locked on yours, trusting you, you feel such caring for her. Lovely, in every sense of the word.<br /><br />As the feeling of urgent desire is replaced by a soft satisfaction, she sighs. She lays, naked, on your bed. You lie together, talking softly. The rush of adrenaline is gone from your bodies. The urgency you felt has relinquished its hold and in its place is a feeling of calm serenity. "Are you comfortable?" you ask her, gently teasing her, as you kiss along her jaw line. Your mouth captures hers in a deep kiss. Your tongues play together, in a meaningful way, as the kiss lengthens. Her face is a bit red, from your beard scratching her face, slightly. She looks well-kissed as you pull back and survey her. What you see is a beautiful woman who has given herself to you, who lies in your bed with not a care in the world, and who reaches again for your mouth.<br /><br />"Mm I'm feeling wonderful, Gareth," she says, letting out another contented sounding sigh. "But I should explain something now, to you. Can I explain to you why I'm on birth control pills?" She looks you in the eye, steadily.<br /><br />"Of course you can," you say, stopping to capture another kiss from her delicious lips.<br /><br />"I have endometriosis, which is the growth of uterine tissue outside of the uterus. It's painful, in the extreme, most months, to the point of agony. There are no treatments essentially for it, except for relieving the pain, and shrinking or slowing the growths by taking the oral hormones via birth control pills. It's not likely I'll ever get pregnant." As she finishes and you hear her story, you are struck by the seriousness of this disease. "It's a silent, awful experience that I've lived with for most of my life. I hate it," she continues. Suddenly, the soft, gentle mood of lovemaking has been replaced by the grim reality of a disease that you can't cure with a snap of your fingers.<br /><br />"I'm so sorry to hear this Lesley," you say, at a loss for words. "What is the best thing for you to do?"<br /><br />"Well, honestly, the best thing is to have it diagnosed, first of all. I've had that done. I've had surgery too, to remove most of it. But the best thing is to get pregnant, honestly. That stops the ovulation cycle from occurring, completely. But, so far, I've not had a man around, for that to happen. So, not an option, in my case." She looks away, embarrassed, yet realistic, at her situation. You mull this over for a minute.<br /><br />"So, what you're saying is that you've had the surgery, and there is a chance that you may become pregnant, at some point?" you ask her, wanting her to clarify this point.<br /><br />"Yes, that's correct. But, who would want me, after all? Just a lady who's damaged goods." She starts to cry, softly, feeling very sad.<br /><br />"Oh Lesley, I want you. You're so special, already to me. I want to help you. Heck, if making you pregnant is what you want, I'll be happy to help," you say, in a rush, suddenly wanting to give this woman everything you can. An overwhelming sense of love rushes through you for her, at her pain and distress. She looks at you.<br /><br />"Really? You're not just saying that, to make me feel better, are you? Are you serious, truly?" she asks, watching you closely. She barely dares to trust you, hoping against hope this slim thread of hope is what she is truly hearing.<br /><br />"Of course I am, otherwise I'd not say it," you say, seriously, meaning it. Her face breaks into a smile and she reaches up to kiss you.<br /><br />"That's so lovely of you. Well, let's think about this for a time, okay? Let our brains get around the idea, before we do, and say something, too rash." You gather her into your arms and the two of you lay there, naked, in body and in spirit, holding each other. So close now. Again, you've shared something very deep between you.<br /><br />After a short time, you say, "What would you like to do now?" She smiles at you.<br /><br />"What I'd really love now is a back scratch. Could you give me a nice scratch?" She rolls over onto her tummy. You admire the curve of her hip, the swell of her firm behind. You start to scratch and she says, softly, "Oh that's perfect, thanks so much, ah, that feels wonderful." Your fingers gently and firmly scratch her back up and down, all over and she keeps letting out little sighs of enjoyment. You feel totally content as well, enjoying pleasing her with your touch. She rolls to face you and presents her lips again for a kiss, then says, "Thank you for that. Can I return the favour?"<br /><br />"Ah, yes, that would be lovely," you reply, with a grin and a quick kiss on her lips. You settle yourself down on your tummy. As her fingers scratch your back, it feels so good. You feel connected to her in a deep, fundamental way.<br /><br />"There, is that just right for you?" she asks, continuing her gentle scratching.<br /><br />"Ah, yes, it's wonderful, don't stop for a few minutes," you mutter, your head buried in the pillows. "It feels so good to have your back scratched, doesn't it?" Her hand stops the scratching and starts caressing you. It's a insignificant movement of her hand.but you sense the change in her movements. You roll to face her. Her lips find yours, and again, you're kissing. The mouths play with each other, slanting across, lips nibbling lips, tongues darting.<br /><br />"You make me feel so good," she whispers as you stroke her body. Your lips travel on her body, awakening all the nerves in her. It's so very hot and sexual between you, as the temperature builds, again. Her soft body is such a lovely turn on for you. Her moans of pleasure are music to your ears. You feel so masculine and virile afterwards, as you lay contentedly, in each others arms."I never knew it was like that," she says, softly, her voice, a mere whisper of sound. "It's so much about pleasing the other person, isn't it? Giving yourself to another is the most fun I've had in my life." She sounds so happy and pleased with herself. "Thank you, Gareth, for that. It's the nicest gift anyone has ever given me."<br /><br />"Ha, if only all things in life were as easily gifted, to someone," you reply. You're pleased as punch that she enjoyed herself. It was a bit awkward in the beginning but you soon sorted out it with her about where to touch you and how to do it in a way that felt nice for you. Her reaction was completely beautiful to you. It was unscripted pleasure that you'd given her.<br /><br />"Now I know what the romance novels are talking about with his heated loins, and her moist, nether regions," she said, with a hearty laugh. You laugh uproariously, thinking her humour to be quite funny. It's quiet afterward as you enjoy feeling her breathing. Her head is upon your chest, and she can hear your heart beating. Your chest hair tickles her nose slightly. You break the silence.<br /><br />"Well, Lesley, I'm glad we waited until you knew as much as you do about me. This way, there can be no hurt feelings, hopefully. I wanted to be honest, and up front with you. It's always better." Your face and voice take on a serious tone.<br /><br />"Yes, thank you Gareth for being so up front with me. I do appreciate your honesty. But truthfully, it wouldn't have made a whit of difference. Ever heard of this saying 'It takes a minute to meet someone, an hour to know them, a day to love them, and a lifetime to forget them?' That's how I feel about you, Gareth. I'll never forget you were my first." Her eyes have a sheen of moisture at the edges and a single tear drops to the pillow. She's looking you in the eye or trying to, as her mouth trembles.Your heart swells and you hug her to you, tightly.<br /><br />"Oh Lesley, yes, I've heard that before and it's perfect. I, too, will never forget you, not matter what happens." She sniffs loudly, trying to compose herself but failing miserably.<br /><br />"I don't want to be weepy and maudlin on you but it's just such a momentous event to realize that you love somebody and you've just made love to that person. God, how do people do it, when they just have sex with each other?"<br /><br />"Well, Lesley, that's the point. They are just doing it for the animal lust part of it. There is no real meaning or love between them. It's just the physical act. A shell of the loving and caring part of making love. I've had sex before but made love only a few times. Do you see the difference?" Her heads nods in agreement, understanding your point.<br /><br />"Yes, Gareth, that feeling of our souls touching, feeling your hands all over me, touching all the delicious parts, that was incredible." Her face breaks into the biggest smile as she describes it. She's like a kid in a candy store with the biggest lollipop in hand.You laugh out loud, loving her reaction.<br /><br />"Well, my lazy, sexy lady, oh, can I call you my lady now? We should be getting out of bed and doing something. Can't lie here all day and make love to you, you know," and you give her a leering look, with a wink. She laughs loudly, and gives your lips a quick kiss.<br /><br />"Aw, please?" she says, in a pleading tone, with a laugh following on its heels. You playfully swat her bum with your hand as she darts away from you. She dances, naked, in front of you for a minute. Your ankle throbs as you step on it, intent on catching her.<br /><br />"Ouch, that hurts," you say, wincing.<br /><br />"Oh Gareth, are you okay?" she says, full of concern as she comes towards you.<br /><br />You capture her in your arms and say "Gotcha, my trap worked," and you kiss along her neck, arms around her torso, hands on her bum.<br /><br />"Ha, you tricked me, you devil!" she says, laughing. It's such a joyous feeling to be able to touch her freely, without reservation. You feel bubbly and happy and content with her by your side. It's young love at its finest. You get dressed as she dresses as well. Her clothes are in a neat pile where you helped disrobe her earlier. As she puts on her bra, she blushes, and mutely turns around for you to do it up for her. Your hands do the task for her then you capture her again, from behind, in your arms, folding her into your embrace. Your hands go around her body and feel her breasts once more. It's a hot moment but you don't let yourselves get carried away again on a tide of passion. It's simply a tender moment between two lovers, after the fact. There's an air of contented passion between you two.<br /><br />"That was really lovely." You kiss her neck and then let her go. She helps you walk to the kitchen again and take a seat. She's got a smile upon her face now. You smile too, knowing why. She makes lunch for you and serves it on the table. You strike up a conversation again about exploring the cave when your ankle feels better. It's a fun time where you strike ideas off each other and get a feeling for the others view. She thinks it wise to wait for a bit before exploring more, because of your injury. You'd like to go back as soon as possible, of course.<br /><br />"I'd like a doctor to take a look at that ankle if it's not better in a couple of days," she adds.<br /><br />"Hmm, yes, that may be wise," you answer, absentmindedly. Your mind is focused on the cave and what you found there, again. "Why was he there?" is the question running through your mind again and again. "What was he looking for, where was he going?" She clears the plates and does up the dishes quickly. It's a quick task, then she comes and moves her chair near to yours. She takes your hands in hers.<br /><br />"Don't worry about your dad. We're going to figure it out in good time, okay?" She smiles as she looks in your eyes. You smile back and pull her face towards you for a kiss. A quick, dry kiss on the lips. Nice and friendly between you two.<br /><br />"Thanks for your support. I appreciate it," you reply. She brings you your father's papers. You sit and study them farther. You take a nap in the afternoon, resting your ankle. It feels good to sleep for a bit, resting your body and your mind. The leather bag with your father's papers is safely locked up in the trunk, away from prying eyes.<br /><br />Continued in Chapter 7Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453059149331143480.post-39496148475734467822006-12-08T10:06:00.000-05:002006-12-11T07:37:28.460-05:00Chapter 5Chapter 5<br /><br />Continued from Chapter 4<br /><br />Lesley awakes from a sound sleep and as her mind traces back over the day and night before, she blushes a deep pink at the private thoughts, that she shared with you, late at night. She wonders what magic you have to draw that story out of her. "Why did I tell him so much? God you are so stupid!" she mutters, as she lays there. Shaking off the feeling of being too stupidly emotional, she arises from her bed and gets dressed. Poking her head into your room, she finds you still sleeping, after a restless night. Your ankle has been throbbing off and on all night. It's a bad sprain which wasn't helped by walking on it, back to the Cleft. She makes the tea and porridge, this morning, for breakfast, assuming that's what you'll want.<br /><br />When you awake, you groan at the pain in your ankle. "Oh god, my ankle hurts. Ouch!" you say as you test it. It just throbs in pain. You swing your feet out of bed. and set them on the floor. You carefully slip off your pyjamas. Then you grab your jeans and awkwardly get them pulled up while lying down. It's not easy to do. Then, carefully and slowly, you hobble your way, wincing at each step, to the kitchen. She is humming to herself as she is sweeping the floor. "Having fun, are you?" you say to her, with a smile, as she looks up. She blushes prettily at your presence and replies, "Yes, I felt I should help a bit since you're hurt. How's the ankle feel this morning?"<br /><br />"It's quite sore, actually and I think I need to be waited on today," you reply, with a laugh. You sink into the kitchen chair, with a heavy sigh. Walking over, she takes off the pressure bandage and looks at it.<br /><br />"It's still very swollen and see here?" She indicates a blue, black area on your ankle on the outside. "That's bleeding under the skin because of tearing of the tissues." Getting some fresh ice from the freezer, she soon has it in a bag, and plops it on your ankle. Then she gets you a mug of hot tea and a bowl of porridge. It's a nice treat for you to be waited on again. You sit and enjoy your breakfast, watching her. She continues sweeping and humming gently. A quiet companionable silence is present. The wind gently rustles the grasses. Inside, she's smiling, thinking, "wow, I don't feel so stupid in front of him now. I think I did the right thing, maybe, by telling him my story." The sight of you sitting there, with your bare chest, is more appealing than ever, this morning, to her.<br /><br />As you sit and sip your tea, you break the silence. "About last night." you start to say, and Lesley blushes. She stops sweeping and looks at you.<br /><br />"Thanks for being there to talk to," she blurts out, in a rush. "It was nice to have your listening ear."<br /><br />"I'm glad that you felt comfortable enough to share the details with me," you reply, grinning at her. "Despite the pain you feel, there is some hope, isn't there, when you share it with a caring person, isn't there?" You continue to look at her.<br /><br />"Mm, yes, definitely feeling better this morning about it all," she says, leaning on the broom. "Amazing how that works, isn't it?"<br /><br />"Yes, it is amazing how sharing of your pain does lessen it, somehow." You nod your head. There is a short silence between you.<br /><br />"I thought of you as I was laying in bed after our talk," she blurts out, spilling out the words on her mind. She's staring at you.<br /><br />"Yes, I thought of you too, as I was laying there. How such a beautiful woman has come into my life and who shares her private thoughts with me." Then you wink at her, thinking she's looking so good today. She's in a t-shirt and jean cut-off shorts with bare feet. Her curves seem especially delicious this morning, as your mind thinks back to the previous night's thoughts, about you and her, together. As a result, your body begins to betray you. It's an embarrassment for you to realize that the way you're sitting, facing her, she can see it. You make an effort to stand up to detract attention. But she comes towards you, wanting to help you, as you stand. She doesn't want you to stand on your ankle unnecessarily.<br /><br />As she is there, beside you, touching your bare arm, you blurt out, "Oh Lesley, I think you're pretty cute this morning." The words tumble from your mouth, coming out of their own accord. You are surprised to realize that you've spoken the thought aloud.<br /><br />"Mm, I think I could say the same thing about you, Gareth," she says, laughing out loud at feeling the effervescence of a young love between you two. It's a bubbly, exciting feeling that she's not felt so strongly before and it feels good. "I think I'm starting to care about you a lot, Gareth." Her hand reaches up to your face at that point, and her palm is warm against your cheek. You turn towards her. Your hands go to her hips and her hands sit upon your bare shoulders. Your lips meet and it's a lovers kiss you share. A deep, passionate, lips tasting each other, kiss, that shakes you to the core. A deep river there. With your mouths fused together it is like a current between you. She steps back, shaken by this deep stirring within her. Her hands just want to scratch your chest and dig into you. Pulling you closer. "Wow, that was some kiss," she whispers, too shy to look at you. You, too, feel this deep, passionate longing that she has. A feeling of wanting to strip her naked, and make love to her like you've not done for ages, with a woman. Your body is betraying you even more now. Eagerly wanting this woman.<br /><br />"I think we had better stop this before we go too far," you say, in a serious tone, with a smile upon your lips. "I'd not want to do anything to upset you." She smiles shakily. She's happy in one sense but inside she's saying to herself "Oh, how I want him, I want Gareth to take me and make me his." She knows, however, that it's not a wise course to push ahead with. It's too early, she feels. Not quite there yet. She wants to know more about you. She changes the subject by asking if you'd like more tea. She's trying to lower the heat of the moment. There is a real tension in the air, between you two. One gesture by one of you would start something. You have to consciously turn away, and sit down again, and get your heart rate back to normal. It is an embarrassing moment for you as you realize just how ready you were. She brings you another tea and then goes outside, to the ledge, and stands in the sunshine. You're glad of the physical break from her presence. You're saying "oh come on, get a grip of yourself. One kiss and you're ready to jump on her? Give me a break."<br /><br />After a little while, she comes in and asks if you'd like some ice for your ankle, to reduce the swelling. You agree that would be wise. As she fills the plastic bag again, you watch her. She's aware, more than ever now, of you. After plopping the bag of ice on your ankle she leaves. Returning with your father's notes in the leather bag, she says, "Here, Gareth, I thought you may like to see these."<br /><br />"Oh, thank you Lesley! Yes, that's a good thing for me to occupy my time with today." As you get to work studying your father's notes, she goes off to her room. She sits and thinks about you for a while. Writing in her diary, for a short while, helps her mind, as well.<br /><br />For the rest of that day she doesn't bother you with questions, sensing that you're not ready to talk in detail. You're still in the dark, yourself, as you study the notes. She helps with icing your ankle again, elevating it, and having the pressure bandage on, and off. Between the two of you, you keep the conversation on a polite level. However, both of you feel this deep, dark pull towards each other as an undercurrent to the light, bantering, conversational tone you adopt. It's as though still waters run deep and strong between you. She finds herself daydreaming, a few times, about that kiss. Seeing, in her mind's eye, her hands running through your chest hair and imagining herself digging her fingers into your back and pulling you to her. She wants to feel your body against hers. "How lovely it was to sit on his bed last night," she thinks. She hears you play the guitar, as she leans against the Cleft wall, staring at the sky. She is feeling a deep content, finally, within her.<br /><br />That night, after you've bid each other a good night, you are the one who is finding sleep elusive. "How can I not care for Lesley?" you ask yourself. It's a question without an answer, as you stare at the sky. You stand at the door of your room, gazing up at the moon, in the night sky. It dulls the stars this night. A full moon. Your hand strokes your beard absently, as you are deep in thought. Your thoughts are touching on the exploration of the cave. How it will have to remain undiscovered further, until your ankle is better, from the nasty sprain. You try to keep your mind off Lesley and her curves but it's an impossible task. Your mind goes back to the kiss you shared this morning. Your lips recall it. She appears in front of you, as though an apparition summoned up from your memories. She's got her pyjamas on.<br /><br />"Hello," you say, a bit startled, at first, at her appearance.<br /><br />She blurts out "I can't sleep with this on my mind. Gareth, I can't stop thinking about you and us and that kiss and." You reach for her, cutting off her words mid-sentence and you hug her in tightly to you. It's more an instinctive reaction than a thought. Her body is so soft and warm up against yours. Just fits in so nicely, you feel. Your arms are around her and her arms hug you around your middle, fingers digging into your back.<br /><br />"I know, don't you think I feel the same way?" you say, gently chiding her. She laughs, self consciously. You kiss her then, again, deeply, without reservation, your hunger for her, like a naked flame, in front of her. She bends in your hands like a supple twig, leaning back against the pressure of your body against hers. Your lips meet hers. It is a very deep, passionate kiss. Nothing left behind. Two mouths fused onto each other. Each, equally giving to the other. A shared heat. Then you nibble her lips, and then kiss down the side of her neck. You want to go farther. It is such pleasure for her to feel your lips there. Her skin feels so lovely and soft under your lips.Your hands cup her bum, pulling her to you tightly. She can feel your body and the excitement you are feeling at her being so close. The air, between you two, is electric with the tension. Suddenly, you push her away from you, and turn, and move, limping on your sore ankle, a short distance away, with your back to her. She feels empty without you in her arms.<br /><br />"Why did you let me go?" she asks, forlorn sounding. She feels empty, without you to hold, and without your arms around her. She wraps her arms around herself.<br /><br />"I'm not ready for this, this passion, that I feel between us," you say, with reservations. You don't want to talk about it, as though, by not speaking of it, maybe it'll just go away of its own volition. But you also know, that now, she feels the same way you do, and it won't be going away on its own. It'll have to be faced. "There are things that you still don't know about me, and I'd not feel good about doing this before you know more about me," you continue. You wave your hand at the bed, conveying what you mean, without words. She walks over to face you and looks deep in your eyes. She reaches out to your hands and holds them in hers, tightly.<br /><br />"I don't really care what you'll tell me Gareth," she says, shyly. Yet, she's bold, as well, by placing a hand upon your cheek, gently. "I do know that I've come to care very deeply for you and I'd want you to be the first." She blushes deeply, and looks down. You feel lost, and bewildered, at this declaration of hers. It's more than you wanted to know but now that it's out, you can't go back, either. You know you can't go putting the genie back into the bottle now that it's out. Now that you've both said these things, to each other, they hang there, in the air, open.<br /><br />"I know Lesley, but I can't, I just can't do this to you," you admit to her, wanting to be honest. In all honesty you'd love to take her at her word and make love to this beautiful woman who is offering herself to you. You admire her for her courage, in fact. But you know that she may regret it in the morning. You kiss her hand at this point, loving the feeling of her soft, warm hand on your face. You want to pull her into your arms so badly. "I'm sorry but, really, truly, I'm a lot more than I've told you, and I want some time to gather my thoughts together. So, that is why I'm not going to tell you any more tonight. Please just accept that, from me, okay? I'm sorry. I don't mean to hurt you. " You turn away from her, although it's very hard to do. Her hand falls as you turn away. Her face echoes the pain in her heart. "Well, I'm sorry but I do think we should try and get some sleep tonight. We'll talk again in the morning, I promise. I'll tell you all my story then, okay?" With this declaration, Lesley gets the message quite clearly that to go ahead would be foolish. She has a quick vision of stripping off her pyjamas in front of you and offering herself, but quickly dismisses that idea. She looks you in the eye and then she reaches up. Kissing you on the lips again, quickly and deliberately, she says good night. The taste of her lips is like sweet honey to you. You want more of her. But you let her go. It's lonely in the room once she's gone.<br /><br />After a short while, you settle down in your bed, thinking of Lesley. Her face as she blushed, her face as you kissed her. The memory is so fresh and appealing to you. "I should tell her all the story and then let her decide what to do," you say to yourself, then fall asleep, exhausted, from the thoughts circulating in your head.<br /><br />She climbs into bed, after leaving you, and she cries. Sobbing, she knows she wants you but she doesn't want to throw herself at you. But, caring for you, wanting you so much. She curls herself into a ball and then sleeps, tears on her cheeks.<br /><br />"Dear Lesley, how did you sleep?" is your first question to her, the next morning. You woke up, remembered your promise to her, pulled on your jeans and made your way, slowly, to the kitchen. Again, she's up before you. She's taken the initiative to make porridge and tea, once again, for breakfast, assuming that's what you'd want. She's not yet eaten, because she decided to wait for you.<br /><br />"Not well, how about you?" she asks. It's a friendly question and she's grinning at you. You are happy to see she doesn't seem to have suffered any ill effects from you gently, but firmly, turning her away the previous evening. The last thing you wanted to do, was to hurt her, or make her sad. You hoped that you'd treated her in the right way, and feel happy to see that, so far, it seems to be that way.<br /><br />"Well, after some thoughts about yesterday, and what we said to each other, then I slept well," you say to her. She smiles.<br /><br />"Yes, we were honest with each other last night, weren't we? It's nice to be honest with ourselves. She turns and dishes out the porridge for breakfast. You regard her as she does this task. Again, she's in jean cutoffs and a t-shirt with bare feet. A very appealing view to you on this fine, sunny morning. Your heart swells with caring for her. The curve of her hips is such a lovely vision too, the way they fill out her shorts.<br /><br />You decide to plunge right into your story, without wasting any time. "Lesley, I'm going to tell you my story now, then you can make up your mind to stay or to go. My father was a scientist, and he was investigating time travel according to his notes. He discovered a way to make a linking book with another age. I think he may have been killed because of that knowledge. That's what worries me." The words tumble out of your mouth, as though getting them out fast enough was an issue. "I knew this before, because he'd taught me from a young age how to write a linking book. I can use his books to link with a Relto or a refuge area, if you'd understand that term better. I can do time travel as well. I've kept the knowledge to myself for many years. My grandmother taught me many things as well." As the words spill out, Lesley is standing, in awe of the story you are telling her. It's captivating her like nothing else. She wordlessly puts the bowls of steaming porridge on the table.<br /><br />Then she interjects your stream of words with a simple question "How do you time-travel?"<br /><br />You're nonplussed by the question for a minute, then reply, "Well, it's a molecular thing where you place your hand on a linking book picture and get transported to that place. It's really rather hard to explain any farther." She stands there, awestruck, as you continue explaining about the linking books. You pause in the flow of words and then ask her "Have I scared you away for good?" She smiles and reaches out for your hand and gives it a squeeze.<br /><br />"If you think that was enough to scare me away, well, then you don't know me very well!" she replies. You smile in reply and breathe a huge sigh of relief. You had a feeling she'd be okay with the idea but even still, with it out in the open, you feel better. She's curious about the connection with your father. "Why do you think your father was killed for his knowledge?" she asks.<br /><br />"Well, he discovered an ancient civilization, built by some people called the "D'ni", and had taken me there a few times. I've been there myself, quite a few times. I'm afraid that some people may get their hands on the linking books, and use them for unscrupulous means."<br /><br />"Ah I see," Lesley replied, not really understanding about the D'ni reference, but trusting you to explain it farther to her.<br /><br />"The D'ni were an ancient race of people, and their civilization crumpled from within, although a massive earthquake helped to destroy their city, as well. I've been exploring their ancient ruins, on a regular basis." You're warming to the idea, now, to share everything, with her. Since she's shown interest in your theories, and you've got your foot in the door, it feels right to continue with the story. "They believed that there was no true God. Instead their rulers were divine kings who could do no wrong. But their society crumbled when, of course, the kings showed themselves to be all too human. It was greed and avarice that made their civilization crumble. The proud couldn't withstand the least. The masses rose up and revolted against the last king and beheaded him. King Kadish was his name. He left a fortune locked up in a tomb in which he died. That's what I'm afraid will get stolen. You remember what happened with the Egyptian pharaohs and how their tombs were plundered. More of the natural human instinct to take what's not yours, at work." As you talk, Lesley sits and listens in rapt attention, thrilled at the secrets you're revealing to her.<br /><br />"Gareth, why are you telling me so much? Aren't you worried that I may be eager to get my hands on this fortune as well?"<br /><br />"For some reason, Lesley, I trust you. I may be a fool for that, only time will tell, but somehow, I know you won't betray it." You smile broadly after saying that. She's smiling back at you.<br /><br />"You're correct in your assumption and I feel honoured with your trust in me." With that, Lesley gets up and gets the milk and sugar for the porridge. It's quiet for a time in the Cleft while you consume your breakfast. Sipping your tea afterwards, you ponder why you did mention it all to Lesley. She's got her back turned to you as she does the dishes.<br /><br />"Where do you keep the linking books?" she asks, breaking the silence.<br /><br />"In a locked chest in my room at the end of the bed. That way, they are safe from prying eyes." Your face has a wry grin on it. "My father left some of the linking books with my grandmother by accident. I've learned a lot from those books. His notes explained more of his actions, than I knew before, as well. I don't hate him as much as I did. I do believe he did intend to come back and at least get me again." You leave it there, content with what you've said.<br /><br />"Oh really?" she says, surprised to hear you not speak of your father with disdain, like before.<br /><br />"Yes, I think he wanted me with him, for the extra hands, to write linking books." You nod your head for emphasis. She looks thoughtful. The subject hangs there, in the air, between you, then you continue with, "I'll never really know what his plans were and at this point, I'm just content to have his papers to read. I'll read them again, at some point, and maybe learning something new. But for now, it's finished, in my mind." With that, she senses a curtain closing in your mind, on the subject, and there is silence.<br /><br />"How's the ankle feeling today?" she says, changing the subject.<br /><br />"Mm, it's getting better I'd say. I can put some weight on it now." You hobble over to her to prove your point. But it's still painful to walk on and you settle down in the chair again, with a sigh of relief.<br /><br />"You shouldn't be walking on it," she gently chides you, as she walks towards you. You smile at her, liking the fact that she cares about you. "Here, let me have a look at it." She unwraps the bandage around your ankle, and sits with it propped, on her lap. "Let's put some ice on it first, for a few minutes, to take down the swelling and then I'll massage it after that." She gets up and carefully places your foot on her chair. She gets the ice, and again, puts it in the bag. Dropping it on your ankle, she then asks if you'd like more tea.<br /><br />"Yes, please," you say, handing your cup over, with a smile. She willingly gets your tea. "Lovely to have a servant here, for my needs," you say, gently teasing her. She laughs out loud.<br /><br />"Well, it's nice to know somebody wants me," she fires out, as a parting shot, before she heads out into the sunshine. You sit there, thinking of her, last night, offering herself to you. How much you wanted to make love to her. Similarly, as she stands there, sipping her tea, her mind is running over the previous evening.<br /><br />After she's done her tea, she comes back into the kitchen. After depositing her cup in the sink, she comes over to you. "Okay, that should be enough ice, for now. Let's have a look at it." She has a look at your ankle. "I'll massage it again and hopefully that'll take down a bit of the swelling," she says. Her hands softly, and firmly massage your ankle. You sit back watching her hands on your ankle. Her touch feels very good to you.<br /><br />"You've got a very soothing touch, you know," you say softly, to her. There is a pregnant pause in the air, a definite feeling of connection between you two, not just physically with her hands upon your ankle, but a touching of the minds, the souls, of each other. She stops and looks at you.<br /><br />"How do you do that?" she asks, in a husky voice. "How do you make me want you so bad? What is it about you that just makes me go all mushy and soft inside? Why do I want your hands on me? Why do I want to run my hands through your hair and growl in your ear? I've never felt this before." She shrugs her shoulders, her face blushing, but steadily holding your gaze.<br /><br />"I don't know what it is Lesley," you reply, holding her gaze. It is magnetic, the pull between you. She puts down your foot. off her lap gently. She stands and comes closer to you sitting down. You stand up beside her. Your bodies close together and arms go around each other to pull close. Your lips meet hers. Such wonderful deep kisses. Mouths open. There is no stopping the natural urge of both of you wanting to be closer to the other. It's not really a conscious action on your part but a natural one of wanting her and realizing that's what she is indicating too.As your lips leave hers, she moans, "Oh Gareth, I want you." Her hands roam your body. Her fingers dig into your back, pulling you into her. Your hands cup her bum. The kissing gets deeper and more passionate as lips return to each other. Your hand finds her breast and touches it roughly.<br /><br />You pause, your hands upon her body, feeling her heart beat as though it was your own. "Lesley, I think that you know where this is going if we don't stop it. Do you want it?" You look deep into her eyes. You're both panting slightly, mouths apart, feeling this urgent passion between you. She looks you back square in the eyes, gaze unwavering. There is no doubt in her eyes.<br /><br />"Yes, Gareth, I know where you want to take me and yes, I want it. Come with me. Lean on me." She supports you as you hobble together, to your room. Your ankle throbs as you walk, reminding you of its injury. As you enter your room, she turns to you and takes your face in her hands. "Make love to me, Gareth. Make me feel wonderful," she commands, then kisses your lips deeply, hungrily, as though she can't get enough of you. You respond willingly, a participant in this most pleasant of pursuits. Your hands undo her shorts, slipping them off. She steps out of them, hungrily reaching for your mouth again. Her fingers eagerly find your button on your waistband and undoes it. The rest of the clothes soon follow and you pull her down to the bed beside you. A sweet time for both of you.<br /><br />Continued in Chapter 6Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453059149331143480.post-47656743843801641342006-12-08T08:10:00.001-05:002006-12-11T07:36:27.968-05:00Chapter 4Chapter 4<br /><br />Continued from Chapter 3<br /><br />It's later in the afternoon now. You are both in your truck, driving along a dusty road. The two of you studied a map before leaving the Cleft. The plan is to retrieve Lesley's car from where she left it. It's confusing to her in this desert landscape. You know it quite well, but, still to find out where on the road her car is, is confusing. Luckily, she recalls the number of the highway that she was on, when her car broke down. You find her car, none the worse for wear, after a few fruitless turns. It is pulled off on the side of the road, sitting there, abandoned. You check the engine, after popping open the hood, but it won't start when she tries it. The engine doesn't even turn over. It's not out of gas either, after you ask her to check that. She says that it just sputtered to a stop, and then the engine died. "Okay, that's that then. I don't know what's wrong with it. Let's tow it to the town garage and get Randy, the mechanic, to look at it," you suggest. She agrees with you. She slams the hood down. You get some chains out of the cab of the truck, from behind the seat. You kneel down on the ground, by the bumper, and find the steel hooks underneath the car. You attach the chains to the car. Then link them onto the pickup. Lesley sets the transmission of the car to neutral. Both of you climb into the truck, and you start it up. As you start driving, the car creaks and groans, then rolls along nicely. It's hot and dusty sitting in the cab of the truck, as you drive along. But it's not lonely with Lesley there. "Can I ask you what brought you out this way?" you say, as you glance over to her. Again, the questions are lining up in there, inside your head, wanting to know more about her.<br /><br />"Sure, you can. I know I've not said much about my past. Thanks for not pushing me," Lesley replies, her hair flying around in the dusty wind coming in the window, as you drive along. "I found myself in a bad position back East," she continues. "You have no idea how office politics can play out. Things just didn't work out for me and I left my position as a geologist with an oil company. I'm taking some time to travel, and find out the next place I want to settle down. I felt an urge to come to the southwest area, for a change of scenery." After she stops talking, she glances down.<br /><br />"That's fair enough," you reply, glancing over at her. She's staring out the window. Her hand is absently playing in the tangle of her reddish blonde hair that the wind has whipped up. She's quite beautiful, in an understated way, with her natural curves, and full, deep pink lips. It's not hard on your eyes to see her. You realize she's not going to talk any more about the subject and let it drop.<br /><br />You reach the town and find the garage. You ask Randy, on her behalf, to have a look at the car. After a brief up and down glance of Lesley, Randy pays attention to you. "Sure, I can look at it. But it'll take me a couple of days, at least. Can you leave it here?"<br /><br />"Sure I can. That's not a problem," Lesley replies. Randy draws up a work order and asks Lesley to sign it. As she's busy signing it, a silent message passes between you and Randy, with both set of eyes looking at Lesley, and then each other. You can tell, he's got questions unasked, about her, in his head, as to why she's with you. There's a sense of envy that you get from him. A question within him as to, why you get this gorgeous female, and not him. You smile at him, as though to say, "tough luck Randy." She finishes and the silent communication between you and Randy ends. You head out and unhook the car from your truck. Then you and Randy push it to where he wants it. Lesley sets the transmission to park, and then sets the brake. She says, "I need to get my suitcase from the car." Retrieving it from the trunk, she then carries it and puts it in the bed of your truck. You shake hands with Randy, as does Lesley, then say goodbye.<br /><br />"While we're in town, I'll pick up some food at the store, okay?" you ask Lesley.<br /><br />"Sure, that's a great idea. I'd love to help pay you for food," she offers. You decline, but she presses the money from her wallet onto your leg, as you sit in the truck. Appreciating the offer, you accept it.<br /><br />"Thank you very much for this," you reply, putting the money in your wallet. She smiles, feeling good that you've accepted some money from her. She knows it's an extra expense to feed her, that you likely can't truly afford, after all. You do have money, but not a lot of it. Driving the truck down the street to the store, you stop and park it. She asks if she can come in with you.<br /><br />"Sure, I'll introduce you to Sarah, the owner," you reply. "She's a good friend." You introduce Lesley to Sarah, and the two women measure up each other. Sarah is a brusque, business type that is masculine looking but kindly, all the same. She exudes a quiet confidence that sets Lesley at ease. She, too, has questions in her mind about who Lesley is, and why she is with you, but keeps them to herself.<br /><br />You shop quickly, for what you need. Asking Lesley if she'd like anything special, and hear her decline, you then pay for the groceries. Bidding Sarah goodbye, the two of you make your way to the truck. "Let's get back to the Cleft and make dinner," you state, after you're settled in the cab. Pointing the truck in the direction of the Cleft, you start driving. You are quiet on the way home. Neither of you feel the need to talk much. There isn't a pressing sense of anxiety to spill out words between you. But, there is inconsequential conversation, pleasant in tone and subject. "Would you like to hear my guitar playing?" you ask her, winking at her.<br /><br />"You play the guitar?" she asks, and then replies, "Oh yes, I'd love that. I'm not talented musically at all but I do enjoy listening to it."<br /><br />As you approach the barbed wire fence at the edge of your property, she begins to recognize the scenery. "I was so glad to see that trailer, there." She points at the abandoned trailer on your land. "That was a long, hard walk, those 3 days," she continues. "I got so lost and turned around a few times. I didn't know which way was up. I curled up in a hollow, both nights, to sleep." Her voice sounds tired, as she speaks. "It was tough and I was scared."<br /><br />"I bet!" you exclaim. "Yes, you looked in rough shape when I first saw you." You slow down and pull the truck in through the open gate and park it. She gets out, as well as you. Grabbing the bag of groceries from the cab, you wait for her. She grabs her suitcase from the back of the truck, and walks beside you, towards the Cleft.<br /><br />Carrying the bag of groceries, you climb down the ladder. She climbs down after you, carrying her suitcase. You go to the kitchen. She takes her suitcase to her room. As you proceed to put away the groceries, she appears. "Can I help you do that?" she asks, approaching you.<br /><br />"Sure, that would be nice," you reply. "Here," you say, handing a couple of cans of beans, "the beans go over there," pointing to the shelf where you want them placed. She helps store them away. It's surprisingly cool in the little kitchen area. With the windmill going up top, with the constant winds, you get just enough power to help charge the batteries to run your fridge. It's enough to keep the milk, eggs, butter, and meat cold and provide you with a freezer. The energy, from the windmill, is stored in the series of 12 volt batteries you have in the Cleft. It provides you with basic power. A simple, yet effective, method. You check the power level in them, and set the switch to the other set of batteries.<br /><br />"What's that set of batteries for?" she asks, standing there, watching you.<br /><br />"That's my basic power source," you reply. "The windmill up top, turning constantly with the winds, provides me with power, which is stored in these, to run this." You pat the fridge, in explanation. She nods her head. There is no need to explain farther, since she understands the basic principle of DC power. "I'd like to start dinner now, I think. Would a stir-fry with tofu suit you, for dinner?" you ask.<br /><br />"Oh yes, that sounds great. Are you a vegetarian most of the time?"<br /><br />"Um, no, but I do eat tofu, on a regular basis to keep costs down," you reply, honestly. You set to work. The hunger pangs are setting in, for both of you, reminding you that it's dinner time. The smell of the vegetables cooking makes her mouth water.<br /><br />"Mm, that smells so good!" she exclaims. She sets the table with place mats and silverware. Again, you appreciate her presence. The dinner, once served, is delicious and satisfying to eat for both of you. "That was heavenly!" she says, once her plate is empty. "Thank you."<br /><br />"No trouble," you reply, with a flick of your hand, dismissing her thanks. After all, you'd have been eating the same thing, without her presence. She helps clean up afterwards. You wash the dishes and she dries them and puts them away, with your direction as to where to put them. After the work is done, you light the coal oil lamp in its glass enclosure. It sends shadows dancing, in the room. You pick up your guitar, and begin to play, glad to have an audience, for once. She sits on a chair, near yours, and listens to the music. Her mind is far away, mulling over the events, back East. Your mind is on the music, gently picking out the notes from the guitar strings.<br /><br />"Thank you Gareth, for a lovely day," she says, standing up. This breaks your concentration on the music. "I'm exhausted and must sleep," she continues.<br /><br />"Good night Lesley. Thanks for sharing my day with me and again, thank you for the money for the food. I appreciate it." You're smiling at her. She smiles back.<br /><br />"No trouble, I'm glad to help out. Good night." She turns and walks to her room, stumbling a little, in the dark. You see her lamp turn on. You are alone now. Picking away on the strings, you continue to enjoy your guitar playing, enjoying the peace. It's a quiet night, with the crickets chirping, and the moon out bright, and full. When you see her light turn out, you set down the guitar. You remove your torch from its hook and then turn out the lamp. Making your way to your room, you undress, brush your teeth and go to bed. Sleep comes easily this night, despite some thoughts about Lesley. "Why did she leave her job?" is a question on your mind. "Why doesn't she have any family?"<br /><br />The next morning arrives. You lay in bed for a few minutes, gathering your thoughts. "I'd love to explore more of that cavern today," you think. Dressing quickly, in a pair of jeans, you make your way to the kitchen. You put the kettle on to boil for tea. As you turn, thinking of getting out the oats for your porridge, Lesley appears. This morning, she's dressed in blue jeans and a nice t-shirt which hugs her curves. A pleasant sight for you. "Good morning Lesley, how did you sleep?"<br /><br />"I slept well, thank you," she replies, "and you? How did you sleep?"<br /><br />"It was a dreamless night for me, I think," you reply, with a laugh. "Nothing that I can remember, anyhow."<br /><br />"I had a dream of being so dry and wanting water," she replies, laughing. Her face really lights up with her lovely smile, you notice.<br /><br />"Well, no wonder! Since you experienced that very thing, just a few days ago."<br /><br />"Yes, luckily I had a few bottles of water in my car and was able to put them in my backpack while I was walking. That was lucky and good planning, on my part. But what I can't understand is how lost I got, out there." She indicates the desert with a sweep of her arm. "Why didn't the map, in the car, help me better?"<br /><br />"Well, it's a bit confusing out here, honestly," you say, justifying her getting lost. "Most of the roads aren't really marked too well. Poorly mapped area." As you talk with her, you are performing the same ritual for breakfast, with tea and porridge. Lesley thanks you for making it for her, as you dish out the porridge, then pour the tea.<br /><br />"I'd like milk and a spot of sugar in my tea," she states, reminding you that you need to get out the milk and sugar, for her.<br /><br />"Oh, okay!" you exclaim, leaping up. She smiles at your haste, thinking you very cute for being nice to her.<br /><br />As you sit down again, you say, "It's nice having someone to share my morning meal with, again," smiling at her. She blushes very prettily at your implied compliment.<br /><br />"Thank you Gareth. Yes, it's lovely in here today with the sunshine streaming in and the nice temperature." Her eyes light up as she smiles at you. This view of you, sitting there, sipping your tea, with a bare chest, is pretty appealing to her. A strong surge of attraction runs through her, making her wonder why, "What is it about him that I find so appealing? Is it because he's funny, and gentle? Or maybe, it's because I just want a man, and he's around?" She mentally shrugs off the questions, too happy to spend much time troubling herself about it.<br /><br />As you finish your porridge, and push away the dish, you ask, "would you like to explore that cave again today, with me?" You continue to sit, sipping your tea. your gaze levelled at her, awaiting her reaction.<br /><br />"Oh, that would be fun! Yes, I did enjoy that yesterday, immensely," she replies. Her face has a happy smile on it, with nothing faked about it. You know she's genuinely excited.<br /><br />"Oh good, I was worried that maybe you didn't enjoy it yesterday." Again, you smile at her, really liking her enthusiasm for your shared adventure. This girl's spirit is really to your liking.<br /><br />"Oh, no, I really did enjoy it and yes, I want to go again. Let's get these washed up and then we should make a lunch, shouldn't we?" She indicates the dishes in front of you. You nod, agreeing with her. As soon as you're done your tea, you clean off the table. She's washing the dishes. You dry them. The two of you make sandwiches for lunch. She peels a couple of carrots for carrot sticks. After putting in a few granola bars and an apple for each of you, the lunch bag is ready.<br /><br />"I'll go put on my swim suit on under my clothes," she says. She walks off to her room. You acknowledge that action of hers, your mind busy on what to take in the carryall. Packing the lunch into it is your next task. Your mind idly wonders what she looks like, with the bathing suit on, but that soon passes.<br /><br />As she puts on her bathing suit, in her room, she's excited at the thought of seeing what else is in the cave. It's a growing sense of adventure. The thought of the dark, still cave doesn't upset her, at all. She reappears, in a short time, wearing stretchy pants, and a tight t-shirt, and running shoes, again. You can see the straps of her bathing suit under her top. It's obviously a two piece. "Okay, ready to go?" you ask her, yourself ready with soft shoes on.<br /><br />"Yes, let's head out," she says, smiling at you. There is a sense of adventure in the air, with both of you feeling it. Sharing in this unknown exploration underground, not knowing what the result will be, but trusting each other, at the same time.<br /><br />You climb up the ladder first, carrying the carryall bag. She climbs up after you. Then, as you begin walking, you each take a handle of the carryall bag, to share the weight of it. A few times, as you walk together, when you get out of rhythm, it's funny and awkward but when marching in rhythm, it works very well.<br /><br />The walk to the cave is, again, a long one. Once there, you unpack the ropes. She helps to get the climbing harnesses set up. She gets hers on, quickly. You, and her, descend the lines, side by side. Once at the bottom, you take off the harnesses. When you get to the edge of the water, you both stop. It's a bit slippery for the footing. She undresses, and leaves her clothes there, in a pile. Her figure is slim and shapely in the bathing suit, you notice. While she's undressing, you are, as well. You aren't so modest as Lesley. Because you aren't wearing a bathing suit, you strip naked and wade into the water, carrying your clothes. She laughs when she sees your lack of modesty. You then swim your way to the other side. It's really rather spooky as Lesley swims beside you. You reach the other side of the lake and wade out. It's all sharp rocks and dangerous, slippery walking. "Careful here, it's slippery too," you warn her. You dress in your clothes, quickly. Then, finding the path, you walk along. It's a narrow, dark and twisty corridor, barely wide enough to make your way ahead. You both bang your head on the ceiling, a few times. "Ouch," you exclaim, "that hurts. We should be wearing helmets, at this rate," you mutter, angry at the pain. You are ahead of her, as the light from your headlamp shines out, lighting up the darkness. As you step ahead, something you spot in the glare of your headlamp, chills you to the bone. It's a human skull lying there. Attached to it, is a complete skeleton, lying there on the ground. "Oh my god," Lesley says, seeing it as well, peering around you, after you've stopped. She ran into you, not seeing how quickly you'd stopped, in front of her. It's a chilling moment, for both of you, as you look at it. It's lying in a position where a large rock is partly on the skull, creating a hole. "This must be what killed them," you say, as you get closer to examine it. The skeleton is clothed but the clothes have almost completely disintegrated away. The skeleton is lying on its side with a old, dusty leather bag beside it. You examine the bag. After opening it, you begin reading some of the dusty, old, crumbling papers. Your eyes widen in shock upon reading the name Gordon Williams. Your hands begin to shake in shock. You almost fall over and it's as though the cave begins to spin.<br /><br />Lesley reaches out to steady you. "Gareth, are you okay? What is it?" Her voice is full of concern and worry. She leans forward, peering at the papers. You sit back on your heels.<br /><br />You say in a quiet voice, "Oh my god, I think this is my father!" Indeed, from the look of the papers, and the writing upon them, it looks like he was exploring different caves, as well, and had obviously gotten this far. "A rock must've fallen and killed him with a blow to the head," you say, solemnly. This discovery has shaken you to the core. Lesley is quiet as well, pondering this turn of events. You can't think of anything else at the moment. "Um, can we go back to the Cleft?" you ask, partly in shock. Your hands are still shaking. Deciding to take the leather bag with you, you pick it up carefully. It's fragile, after sitting there, for a few years. Carefully cradling it in your arms, you're not quite sure how this will work to get it up the rock face you have to climb, not to mention the swim, first.<br /><br />"Yes, I think that would be wise," Lesley says. "Enough exploring for today." She sees you trying to contain the leather bag in your arms. "Why don't you try wrapping it in your shirt?" she suggests. Taking off your shirt, you wrap it securely. You leave the skeleton as it was, turning your back on it. At the lake side you strip again. You wrap the leather bag in your pants, as well, trying to protect it. Then you begin swimming, carrying your clothes and the bag, wrapped within, on your head. It's difficult to swim with one hand, you realize. Your mind is filled with the thought, "he didn't leave me as I'd thought he had," and "how long has he been here?" When you reach the other side, you simply put your pants on, leaving the bag wrapped within your shirt. Once you reach the rock face, you use the climbing harness as a cradle for the leather bag, to free your hands. It's a long, slow climb up again. Neither of you are talking, both occupied with your own thoughts on this event. Pausing for a drink of water on the ledge, it is a welcome break. Lesley wordlessly accepts your canteen and has a long swallow of water. "I'm dry as dust," she says afterwards and hands you the canteen. You have a drink and then climb up the remainder of the rock face. Again, once you reach the top, you are gasping for breath. She, too, is gasping, once she reaches the top.<br /><br />Once you catch your breath, you put the leather bag in the carryall with the ropes that you furl up. Again, there is no conversation between you. The implications of the magnitude of your discovery overwhelms you. Once you are ready, you march out to the opening. Lesley understands your mood, somewhat. She's being respectful of your thoughts, and not chattering, although she's feeling creeped out, still, by seeing the skeleton. "Um, shouldn't we stop and have lunch?" Lesley asks, feeling hungry. She knows you have a lot on your mind.<br /><br />"Oh, yes, of course, we should eat now, before walking back," you stutter, having to suddenly switch gears in your mind. You set the carryall down, and dig out the lunch bag. Doling out the sandwiches, you both eat, silently, concentrating on the food. Your mind goes over and over the question, "Why was he there? What was he looking for? How did he get there? We didn't see any sign of ropes or climbing equipment." You don't share your thoughts, at all, with Lesley. She realizes, as she hears you slightly muttering, that you are deep in thought. You pack up the lunch materials quickly. "I'd like to get back to the Cleft now," you state, autocratically.<br /><br />The walk back to the Cleft is a long one. "Shouldn't we report the discovery of the skeleton to the authorities?" pipes up Lesley. This gives you pause for thought, as you mull over her words.<br /><br />"Hmm, yes, that would be wise, but he's been there a while, and I'd like a chance to go back there, again, before I call the police, okay?" She nods. There is silence as you continue the long walk back. You are still digesting the knowledge you've gained, and Lesley knows that you need the quiet to think. You aren't paying close attention to where you step. A rock causes your foot to roll on your ankle and you fall to the ground. "Argh!" you yell, suddenly grimacing in pain. It really hurts as you fall to the ground.<br /><br />Lesley comes to your side in a instant. "What happened?!", she cries out in alarm.<br /><br />"I've twisted my ankle on that damn rock." You indicate it with your hand. The throbbing, injured tissues send their message of pain. "God, it hurts!" You roll back and forth in pain, your face contorted in a grimace. She stands there, not sure what to do to help you. Kneeling down beside you, she puts her hand on your shoulder.<br /><br />"Well, we'll have to get you back to the Cleft, won't we?" She's matter of fact about that. The feeling of warmth she gets through your shirt, with her hand, is a thought that crosses her mind quickly. "It's nice to touch him," is the thought she has.<br /><br />"I should try and get back to the Cleft, shouldn't I?" She helps you up and you lean on her as you begin to hobble along. Indeed, your ankle is quite painful and throbbing with each step. She has to carry the carryall with the ropes now, as well as, trying to support you with her arm around your back. Your arm is over her shoulders. It's a long, slow shuffle, each step agony. The Cleft is a welcome sight for both of you. Even still, to get there, takes a eternity longer. Once at the ladder, she climbs down first. You carefully climb down after her, double stepping on each rung. You breathe a sigh of relief when at the bottom. Once again linking yourselves together, with your arm over her shoulders, and her arm around your back, you walk to the kitchen.<br /><br />"Phew, that's a relief to be back here," you sigh, once you've taken a seat. "That was a long, painful, slow walk back, wasn't it?" She nods and gets the tray of ice cubes out of the freezer compartment.<br /><br />"Let's get that sprain iced now," she states, business like. "Do you have a pressure bandage around too?"<br /><br />"Yes, in the first aid kit under the sink." You point. She finds it and opens it. Retrieving the pressure bandage, she then, closes the kit again, and puts it away. She quickly transfers ice cubes to a bag, and then gets a towel and puts that on your ankle first, then the ice cubes.<br /><br />"Let's hope it's not too bad a sprain." She's biting her lip, looking worried about it.<br /><br />"Hmm, well, sprains take a few days to heal, and with you around, I'll be okay." You smile at her, happy you've got the help.<br /><br />"Can I make dinner?" she asks, smiling back at you, feeling useful now. You agree in the affirmative, and appreciate her presence even more. Indeed, your exploring has taken up most of the day, along with the long, slow, painful shuffle back to the Cleft. The shadows are deep and the sun is on its downward arc. She takes on the automatic task of making a meal. You sit, with with the ice on your ankle, as it's propped up on another chair. You watch her bustling around. Her shirt and jeans are dusty from the climb in the cave. She's a welcome addition to your daily life.<br /><br />"What did you think of the climbing today?"<br /><br />"Oh, I found it easier to do, honestly, today and I was less scared of the dark as well." She is a confident cook, sure in her movements, as she quickly gets the meal ready. She's serving it on plates, with silverware at hand, in no time at all. You smile at her and say thank you for the lovely meal. She blushes quite prettily at your compliment.<br /><br />After dinner, you talk with her. "How did my dad end up there is something that is nagging at me," you reveal. "Why would a rock falling down kill him? How long ago did this happen?" She knows there are no answers for the questions you are posing, you are only speaking out what is in your mind.<br /><br />"Well, I suspect he was exploring the caves just as we've been doing," she replies. "And he got unlucky." You nod in agreement, feeling like a heavy weight is on you. You know you'll never get the complete story of exactly what happened but at least you know where your father has been for an unknown number of years.<br /><br />It's nighttime now and again the crickets chirp softly. It cools off quickly in the desert after the sun sets. You are shivering. "I think I should get to bed early and rest this crazy ankle of mine." You indicate it with your hand. Lesley nods in agreement. She helps tape up your ankle with the tension bandage. Walking with her, towards your room, with your arm around her shoulders again, is the next step. Lesley helps you to the bathroom first. You do your business as she waits for you. Then she helps you into your bedroom.<br /><br />"Would you like me to help you with taking off your clothes?" she asks, shyly, yet wanting to help you.<br /><br />"Oh, yes, that would be nice, thanks," you reply. You undo your shirt and take it off, with her help. Then you unbutton your pants and unzip them. You sit on the edge of the bed. She pulls them off. The sight of your underwear makes her giggle inside, remembering your skinny dip in the underground lake. You notice her little smile and wonder what she's thinking. She's strangely attracted to you, she realizes, as she stands there a moment, with your pants in her hands. Seeing you there, in your underpants, your chest bare, makes her want to run her hands through the hair on your chest, and then kiss your lips. She wants you, she knows.<br /><br />"Would you like some help with your pyjamas?" she asks. You notice her silence and her standing there, still, for a moment. It makes you wonder what is on her mind.<br /><br />"Okay, thanks, that would be nice. It's warmer with them on, at night, here," you reply. You point to where you store them in a chest. She retrieves them for you. You pull them on, awkwardly, and tie the pants. The top is easily slipped on over your head. She helps get you under the covers.<br /><br />"Have a good sleep," she says, as she departs your room. After she's departed your room, you think back over the day. The excitement you felt at going back there, to the cave. The thrill of the rappelling down the cliff again, in the dark. The vicarious thrill you got from skinny dipping, not really caring what she thought about seeing you naked. The shock of seeing the skull in the headlamp. The horror you felt at reading the papers and seeing that name pop out at you from the pages. The dizziness you felt, and the shock. The silence you knew you'd maintained while you climbed up the cliff again, in the cave. How painful that spraining of your ankle was. You wince at the memory. Then, of course, your mind gets to Lesley. You see her standing there, biting her lower lip, as she seems prone to doing, asking you if you wanted help with your clothes. You don't deny to yourself the certain thrill that coursed through your body, as a woman, as lovely as Lesley, asking if she could take off your clothes. Even if you knew it was only because she wanted to help you. The magnetic feeling you have towards her just grew stronger with that little exchange between you, you know. It excited you.<br /><br />She makes her way down the ledge to the bathroom. Quickly using the toilet, she then goes to her room. Undressing quickly, shivering in the chill, she dons her pyjamas. After brushing her teeth quickly, she hops into bed. She doesn't go to sleep immediately, as was the case, on other nights. The sight of the skeleton keeps playing through her mind. It's haunting her. The feeling of unfinished business is strongly on her mind, this night. She recalls the warm feeling of your back as she helped you walk earlier. It was a pleasant experience for her to feel your weight leaning on her. She enjoyed the closeness of your bodies, she realizes. Shivering, for no particular reason, she thinks "I like Gareth. I should tell him more about myself. I want to tell him more. I want him to care." She lays there, in bed, indecisive. She sees you, naked, swimming in the lake. "Why didn't that freak me out?" she asks herself. "Why did I ask Gareth if I could help him with his clothes? He'll think I'm a man-hungry female throwing myself at him. God, you are so stupid Lesley!" she mutters. She tosses and turns more. "I should tell him about the rumours that were circulated about me," she whispers, into the dark. "But no, they weren't true and by telling him, I'm perpetuating the myth of the words." Finally, the fact of her not being able to sleep drives her up out of bed. She nervously walks along the pitch black ledge and walks into your room quietly. It's very dark but you've left a coal-oil lamp on low, so there is a bit of light. She finds that you are sleeping soundly with the covers pulled up tightly. She stands and stares at you, feeling tenderness and caring inside her. It's a warm, comforting feeling, to her, to care. She doesn't know why, but there is a core of deep caring in her, for you.<br /><br />You awake, suddenly, startled and see Lesley watching you. "Would you like to come and talk to me?" you ask her, once you gather your senses. You gently pat the bed beside you. She eagerly agrees, and settles down, sitting cross-legged, at the end of the bed. "I'm sorry if I awoke you, but that scene just keeps replaying through my mind again and again." You have no need to ask what scene, since it's obvious what she's referring to. The skull and the skeleton was a very shocking sight for both of you.<br /><br />"It's okay, you didn't wake me," you reassure her. She smiles, well aware that you were sleeping, but realizing that you just want her to feel good, by saying that. Your hands reach out, and clasp hers gently. The contact between you is warm and comforting. She feels as though a warm mantle of caring has been placed around her, by your touch, on her hands.<br /><br />"Gareth, I'd like to tell you about my life now," she blurts out. Her face is covered by her hair as she looks down. You've not seen her with her hair down before. It's usually kept back in a ponytail. Quite neat and orderly except for in the truck, when it was windblown. Now, it hangs down, like a curtain, across her face. She is looking down at her small hands held within yours. Then she looks up at you. She's smiling.<br /><br />"Oh really?" you answer her, smiling at her, comforting her, by the smile tugging at your lips. You're tired but interested in hearing what she has to say. This woman interests you in a way you've not felt before. You're eager for the words to spill from her lips. You kiss her hand and say "I'm happy that you trust me enough to tell me." She blushes prettily and settles herself, prepared to tell the tale of her life.<br /><br />"I'll start at the beginning then work my way forwards," she starts. "My parents had me late in their lives and they were killed in a car crash when I was very young. I was brought up by my aunt who cared for me as though I was her own child. I attended university and got my degree in geology. I was working at a oil drilling and mining company, doing work that I loved. But other people at that firm didn't like me, and they made up stories about me and the boss to discredit me. They said that I was sleeping my way to the position I was in. I never once slept with anyone for the sake of work!" Lesley's tone raises in pitch as she talks, indicating her distress at the subject matter. Your hands clasp hers tightly, tightening the grip on them You're trying to convey your sense of sympathy through the touch, but know that you have to try to say something to help her feel better. You can tell she's upset by the way her breathing has quickened.<br /><br />"It's okay Lesley, I believe you," you state seriously. She is silent now, watching for your reaction to her words. She's worried you may think less of her. "Did the boss deny any of it to anyone?"<br /><br />"Thanks for the sympathy, but the boss was no help at all. When I went to him, to tell him the rumours that I overheard, in the washroom, I was sickened. He was a wuss, easily bent by others." She spits out the words, emphasis placed on the word wuss. "I just happened to overhear two ladies, whom I thought friends, talking, while I was in there. You know how you think people are your friends? Then, with a single blow you find just how wrong you are? Argh, I was so damn angry!" She is shaking with emotion as she speaks, her body full of anger. "I felt my position was untenable in the situation, so I left the job," she says "and I demanded an apology, in writing, from the boss. I didn't get it but at least I got a decent letter of reference. I'll have to find work elsewhere, of course, but believe me, I'm sick and tired of damn office politics, believe me!" She pauses, takes a shaky breath and says, "that's my sordid little tale of my being here now. Is it any wonder I want to escape? Yes, I'm looking for escape. I want to be free. I want to be happy." You pause, letting her catch her breath, seeing how emotional she is, knowing that what you say next will be taken in by her, regardless of its importance. She's revealed something very painful to you and needs your support, you know.<br /><br />"Sadly, some people like to play games with others lives and they don't care who gets hurt," you state, truthfully. "Lies get made into half-truths just because people want to bring you down a rung or two," you continue. She nods, knowing the truth of it all.<br /><br />"I had to get this off my chest. It's been eating me up ever since I left. I've not really explained, before, to anyone, how shocking this was. I was a Type A personality, married to my work, you see, and friends weren't that important. Yes, I had friends, but at a time like this you just wonder 'who does care?' when the chips are down." She looks down and hot tears splash out onto your joined hands. "I'm so fucking angry at those people," she yells, showing her frustration. "How dare they screw up my life like that? I never did anything to hurt them, ever. Why did they have to hurt me?" You mutely shake your head, not understanding why, any more than her, why people say untrue things.<br /><br />"Well, I know it's a horrible thing to find out that somebody isn't whom you thought they were," you reply, "and to be backstabbed like that, by the people you worked with." You sit there, mutely shaking your head, feeling so badly for Lesley.<br /><br />"Oh well, I'll get over it, eventually," she says, shrugging her shoulders as if to say, "bugger off!" to the people who hurt her. She wipes her tears away with the sleeve of her pyjamas, and shakes out her hair. You can see her mentally strengthening herself again. The walls are going up again, to fortify herself.<br /><br />"Yes, you'll get over it, and I'll help you. I'm here to talk to any time of the day or night, okay? I've had my own personal trials, and tribulations. So, never fear, please talk to me any time," you say, trying to comfort her. She gives you a weak, shaky smile and then is silent. After a few minutes of silence with your hands joined and a feeling of calmness settling upon you both again, she speaks once more.<br /><br />"I trust your judgment, and wanted to tell you this story," she says, shyly. She blushes and says, "I'm so embarrassed to tell you this." You look at her, not understanding what she's trying to say. She's biting her lower lip, obviously unsure whether to go ahead with what she wants to say to you. She looks at you, evaluating it again in her mind, obviously. Then she blurts out, "I've never actually been with a man, you know," blushing a deep red and looking down. You pull up her chin with your finger underneath it. Her eyes look into yours. Then, as though guided by a outer force, you both move towards each other and your lips touch in a kiss. It's a friendly, dry, chaste kiss. You sit back, and smile at her, afterwards. Her lips felt dry and warm as you kissed them. You'd love to kiss her more.<br /><br />"Really?" you ask, your loins stirring at the thought of taking this woman on a journey she'd not forget. She nods, still blushing, and then is silent, embarrassed that she's revealed something so private to you, a virtual stranger, after all.<br /><br />You sense her embarrassment by seeing her blush and her silence and don't want to add to it. You break the ice between you by saying "Thanks for helping me out today with my sore ankle," and grinning at her. She silently thanks you for the change in the subject.<br /><br />"Yes, it was good that I was there today, for you." She stands up and says, "Would you mind if I gave your foot a nice massage? It may well help the ankle and stop the swelling so much." You agree. She sits with your sore ankle on her lap after you lift it out from the covers. She removes the pressure bandage. Her dry, warm hands feel very soothing on your sore ankle. "A friend of mine did this for me one time and it really helped the healing," she says. Indeed, it feels so nice to have her hands on you. Her hands have a healing, therapeutic touch to them. As she's massaging your ankle, she looks at you, into your eyes, and says "thanks for listening to me tell my silly little tale. I know it's stupid to get so upset about an untrue thing, but in my little world, it was a terrible shock."<br /><br />"Oh no Lesley, it was a terrible shock, I can tell and I'm glad that you felt you could unburden yourself to me. Thank you for sharing your story, painful as it was for you, with me. I feel honoured that you shared it with me. I hope it helped." You sit there, your ankle upon her lap, her hands on it, and you're grinning at her like a silly school boy.<br /><br />"Oh good, that's nice to hear. Thank you," she replies, grinning back at you. Her soul does feel lighter now that she's purged the thoughts out.<br /><br />"Thanks very much for doing that," you say, when she's finished massaging your ankle. Your ankle does feel better. She applies the pressure bandage again, and then helps you tuck your foot back under the covers. She bids you goodnight and then departs. Your mind is on her after she's gone. Your hands move of their own volition, as though they are tracing her curves. Your mind plays out the natural consequences of a man and a woman together, late at night, who care for each other. But it's all a dream and you groan, feeling unfulfilled. "How does she do that?" you groan, wishing she was really there, in bed, beside you.<br /><br />Meanwhile, Lesley is lying in her bed, thinking back over the conversation herself. She, too, dreams of what it would feel like to be there, in your bed, your hands upon her. It's an unsatisfying sleep for both of you that night.<br /><br /><br />Continued in Chapter 5Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453059149331143480.post-88551515359600333352006-12-05T06:07:00.000-05:002006-12-05T06:08:06.266-05:00Chapter 3Chapter 3<br /><br />Continued from Chapter 2<br /><br />You set the carryall bag down at the mouth of the cave. "This cave is a bit narrow and you may well bang your head a bit, just after going in. But, don't worry, it's safe. There is a drop off a short distance in. I didn't have my climbing equipment with me, at the time, last time I was here." As you are talking, you are retrieving headlamps from the carryall bag. You help her get hers adjusted comfortably on her head. Her hair is soft to the touch and silky feeling as your hands adjust the lamp. You get your head lamp on next. "I'll walk ahead of you and you'll have to watch the head room as it gets a wee bit low early on."<br /><br />"Are you sure it's safe?" she says, a nervous tinge in her voice.<br /><br />"Yes, I'm pretty sure that I'll be able to see where the drop off is again. Then I'll get us set up safely." Your voice has a confident tone to it. You're sure of what you are doing.<br /><br />"Okay, lead on then," she says, with a similar confident tone. You both proceed into the cave. As you had stated, it's a bit tricky just past the mouth of the cave where, indeed, the ceiling is low. You both have to stoop to get past it. The darkness, once past the initial mouth of the cave, is an inky blackness, which is broken only by the dim lights of your head lamps. It's warmish feeling in the cave, and you both perspire slightly as you walk along. It's not very far until you say, "Okay, stop and we're going to do some climbing now." Your head lamp shows her the inky blackness of a void ahead of it, indicating the drop off. You're busy taking out the ropes, the pitons, and the hammer, ready to get the climbing equipment set up. She feels a thrill of nervousness. Her stomach roils but she talks herself out of screaming that it's too dark, too close, too confining for her. A deep, steadying breath on her part goes a long way to calming her nerves.<br /><br />"How are you feeling?" you ask her, sensing her mood, because of her silence.<br /><br />"Nervous and scared and wondering how and why I got myself here, in this place," she replies, honestly. She does a shaky, nervous laugh. She says, "Nah, it's not that bad really, but yeah, I'm a bit nervous about climbing in the dark. How much climbing have you done?"<br /><br />"I've done a fair bit of climbing over the years. It'll be okay, I'm sure," you say, soothingly, appreciating her courage in this adventure. You stop what you're doing, and give her a brief hug, which she appreciates. You get your climbing harness on and clip it to the rope. She is putting on her climbing harness. You help her with it. "Okay, then, this is it. Are you ready, as well?"<br /><br />"Yes, lead on," she says, with a more confident tone, now. You disappear over the edge of the abyss and start rappelling down the face of the unknown, dark precipice. She follows you on a second, different line, plumb with your line.<br /><br />"This is wild and crazy," she says, with a nervous laugh. You chuckle, appreciating her humour. It's very still in the cave with little to no wind and no sounds. It's a deep, profound lack of sound that you hear. The only noise is your feet touching the wall, and the whir and click of the rappelling clip. The light bounces crazily off all the surfaces as the two of you rappel down. Then your feet touch something solid. You explore gingerly with your foot, and find you're on a fairly large ledge, about three feet wide at its widest. She's almost down to your level, then she's there, beside you.<br /><br />"This ledge is pretty wide. Just keep your harness on and don't go too close to the edge. I think we can take a little break here, and just relax for a few minutes, and have some water." You unsnap your canteen from where it was attached around your waist. You hand it to her. She drinks some, thirstily. Then, you have a long drink as well. It's dry feeling in here, as though the thought of water in this place had dried up long ago. Your feet crunch on something as you step sideways. After shining your light on it, you find it's a skeleton of a little animal. "Poor thing probably fell to his death long ago," you say. She nods at you, in agreement, her head lamp bobbing as her head moves.<br /><br />After a short break, when you speak quietly to each other, you continue the rappelling down the next rock face. It's not long before you hit the bottom, this time. "Yes, this appears to be the bottom of that rock face," you say, after you peer around with the head lamp.<br /><br />"Hurray, I've done my first cave rappelling," she says, with a cheer. You both climb out of your harnesses and leave them there, ready for the ascent. "Now, to explore this cave farther." Your hands clasp together and you venture into the unknown abyss that yawns in front of you. The light from your headlamps bounces off the walls as you gingerly walk. The cave walls are ragged rock with numerous rocks jutting out of the floor and walls. The ceiling is low and ragged. "This cave was likely created by water," you say to her. Your voice is a bit loud in the absence of sound that you are experiencing. It booms around and echoes off the walls.<br /><br />"That's spooky when you talk," she says, with a nervous laugh.<br /><br />After a few minutes of walking along, your shoes start to splash in some water. "Oh, there is some water here," you remark Soon your shoes are wet, and your headlamp picks up a wide expanse of water in a natural cavern. "Wow, an inland lake and I never knew it was here," you exclaim. The water is warm and brackish tasting as you sample it. She trails her fingers through it, as well.<br /><br />"This is quite neat," she says, with her eyes wide in surprise. It's really quite a amazing site from what you can pick out from the lights you have with you. When you aren't talking, it's so still and quiet, one could hear a pin drop into the water, likely. It's a vast expanse of water in a small place, totally unexpected.<br /><br />"Well, we didn't come equipped for swimming, did we?" you say, with a laugh. "So, I guess this ends our exploring for the day." You back up with her leading the way now, back to the ropes and the harnesses. Your shoes squish with the sound of the water in them. It's a loud sound, in the tight, small place of the cave.<br /><br />"You know, this reminds me of the Lechiguilla cave system from pictures I've seen," she says, as she pauses before putting on her climbing harness again. "It's the deepest cave in the United States and it contains an inland lake as well. People skinny dip in the lake so as not to pollute it with external bacteria," she continues, with a laugh.<br /><br />You pause, and look at her, and flash a smile at her. "Are you suggesting we go for a skinny dip then?" you say, with a twinkle in your eye.<br /><br />"Oh no, sorry, that's not what I meant to suggest," she stutters out, then she realizes you're teasing her. She sees you grinning widely at her. "Ha ha ha, don't you wish!!!" she continues, laughing with you now and getting the joke. You smile at her, glad that she picked up on your humour.<br /><br />"Mm, well, it might be fun to skinny dip," you say, with a hint of seriousness now, in your tone. Inside your brain, you're thinking of her with her clothes off. It's a pleasant fantasy, for a brief minute, where your eyes are traveling over her naked form underneath her clothes. Then, it's gone, just like that. As suddenly as it arrived, it's gone. She's noticed your silence for a minute and is wondering what's on your mind. You grin at her, not wanting to tell her that you've just undressed her for a minute. She is flustered, for a minute, and makes herself busy getting the rope snugged up for climbing. You get your harness on as well, and similarly, get ready to climb your way out of here. "Want some rosin for your hands?" you offer to her and she accepts. It's powder that helps the grip as you're climbing up. "Take it slow and easy and don't panic if you fall," you remind her.<br /><br />"Okay, I'll take it slow and easy," she replies, already starting the climb. You pause for a minute, watching her go up. She's a good climber, in general, and is taking her time, slow and steady and measured in her actions. You start your climb up as well.<br /><br />It's slow, steady, arduous work climbing back up. As she climbs, she's thinking, "why didn't that sexist crack of his about skinny dipping get my back up? Why did I feel a little thrill of excitement when he mentioned that? What is it about him that appeals to me?" This theme of asking herself questions continues as she climbs. You are thinking along the lines of "this handhold is nice and steady. Yes, that foot hold is good and solid."<br /><br />When you reach the ledge you're glad to have a break from climbing. She isn't far behind you. Her light shines in your eyes, blinding you for a minute, as she climbs over the edge and kneels there, panting. "Here, have a drink," you say, offering your canteen, after she crawls over and sits beside you. The two of you sit there, catching your breath after the climb. She has a long drink from the canteen. It's warm and flat tasting for her, but it's wet and quenches the thirst.<br /><br />"It's nice to have some water inside me, even if it is warm," she says. Her voice booms around the cave, echoing off the walls.<br /><br />"How was that bit of climbing?" you ask her, in a quiet voice, trying to minimize the echoes.<br /><br />"I didn't find that too bad at all. A little harder and dustier than climbing on a wall but not too much harder."<br /><br />After sitting on the ledge for a while, you both snug up your ropes and start climbing up again. She tries to think of other things than why you interest her so much. "What is it about him?" is on her mind again, as she climbs.<br /><br />It's another half hour before you reach the top of the that cliff. As you crawl over the edge, you stay there, on hands and knees, and pant with the exertion. She's about 10 minutes behind you, but you don't note the time. Taking a swig from your canteen, you can hear her climbing. You say to her, quietly, "no rush to get up here, take your time, I'm just sitting here catching my breath."<br /><br />"Okay, thanks, yes, I'm almost there, I think," she replies, her voice sounding loud, echoing again, in the cave.<br /><br />As she climbs over the edge, you reach for her rope, helping her. She kneels there, on her hands and knees, panting. "That," she says slowly, "was," and she pauses again, "hard work, that last bit." She sounds very tired out, and you realize she's winded.<br /><br />"Yes, it was hard work. Well done for that! You've done a great job. I'm proud of you," you reply, smiling, in the dark. She looks up at you, her light shining on your face, blinding you again.<br /><br />"Thanks!" she says, smiling broadly, obviously pleased at your admiration of her. "It's a relief to get up here and let my muscles relax a bit Ah, that's feeling nice now," she says, shaking out her hands and arms. "I got a bit tensed up there at the end, what with, holding on for so long, and so tightly."<br /><br />"Yes, it sure feels nice to relax the muscles!" you reply. You hand your canteen to her again. She takes a long, slow drink of it.<br /><br />"Ah, that feels good," she says, handing it back. You leave the piton there but gather up the ropes and stow them away in the carryall that's handy. You walk out of the cave in single file fashion. "Ah, fresh air again," you say, as you emerge out. But then you stop.<br /><br />"Would you like to eat lunch just inside the mouth of the cave?" you ask Lesley. She replies "Yes, thanks, that would be lovely." You both settle down and start eating the simple food you packed. Somehow, the food does taste better after exercise. It's past noon hour and the sun is hot and bright now. The wind rustles the grasses and the hawk is giving its piercing cry as it rides the thermals above you.<br /><br />"Wouldn't it be cool to be like that hawk," Lesley says, "and ride the winds above us, and see all the land laid out like a map?" She turns and looks at you with a smile. The two of you sit there, in the shade of the cave, after eating. A quiet time of relaxing.<br /><br />"Yes, it would be rather neat! Have you ever done hang-gliding?" you ask.<br /><br />"No, I haven't, but I've heard it's pretty neat," Lesley says. "You do feel like a bird up there, surveying all that is below. I'm a bit afraid of heights, so it's not the best sport for me."<br /><br />"Let's get this stuff packed up," you say, indicating the picnic materials. She helps you.<br /><br />"Um, I have to make a quick pit stop," she says, blushing. You know what she means. So, she disappears into the cave and reemerges a minute later. You take a turn too, knowing it's a long walk back, with no privacy, for a bathroom break. Then you set off walking, back to the Cleft. You are both walking back, slowly now, tired from the exertion. The sun is hot on your heads and it's a hot, dusty walk. "I'll be glad to get back to the Cleft," you say, truthfully. You pass the canteen back and forth between you a few times.<br /><br />"Yes, it'll be lovely to get back there, but I need to go get my car," Lesley replies. "I can't leave it there indefinitely," she laughs.<br /><br />"Yes, of course, your car will have to be looked at by somebody. I'll drive you there," you offer. "I have a 4 wheel drive pickup truck that's parked out at the road," you remark. Lesley didn't see it when she arrived.<br /><br />"Oh, that would be lovely if you'd drive me," Lesley replies. She's feeling comfortable, in your presence, after a nice meal shared. "You are pretty self-sufficient out here, aren't you?" she asks.<br /><br />"Yes, in the warm months it's quite comfortable here, but for the late fall and winter, I have to live in a regular house," you reply, in answer to her.<br /><br />"Who owns the old trailer on your property?" she pipes up, after a brief silence, while you trudge along. It's just visible in the distance as you've crossed the ridge.<br /><br />"Oh, that belongs to a friend of mine, who was killed, in an accident. He died in a rock fall, sadly, while exploring."<br /><br />"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," she replies. That topic is dropped because she doesn't want to stir up unpleasant memories for you. She doesn't ask any more questions now, she's content to enjoy the peace and quiet with you as you watch the hawk swoop and dart. Your mind drifts to Jeff, your friend, and why he died. It really was an accident, you hope. Not being there to witness his death first-hand, you only assumed that he had been killed. The two of you continue walking back to the Cleft.<br /><br /><br />Continued in Chapter 4Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453059149331143480.post-754782528439188252006-12-05T06:00:00.001-05:002006-12-05T06:00:46.699-05:00Chapter 2Chapter 2<br /><br />continued from Chapter 1<br /><br />"As a young boy of thirteen years old," you begin, "I was brought here to live by my father." Your voice is deep, with emotion, as you speak. "My grandmother lived here most of her life," you continue. "My mother died when I was an infant, and my father never forgave me, I believe, for that." The pain of your father's rejection is evident in your voice, and your dejected stance, your shoulders sloped and drooping as though with the weight of the years upon you. She listens attentively to you.<br /><br />"Did your father stay here with you?" she asks, the concern evident in her voice.<br /><br />"No," you say, "he left again after dropping me off, and I've never seen him again." She sighs and looks away. "I've never forgiven him for not talking to me again," you continue, feeling lightened, somehow, as the burden of the words escaping is a lightness on your soul. It feels good talking to her.<br /><br />"What about your grandmother?" she asks. "How did she feel about your father?" after a brief pause in the conversation.<br /><br />"She hated him with a passion," you say, with a trace of pride in your voice. "He treated her poorly when he did see her and spoke of her with disdain to myself and others. She was my best friend, my greatest ally and my teacher. I miss her terribly." Your voice trembles on the last few words as the emotion sets in. You look away, the tears welling up in your eyes. Your hand goes to your beard and pulls at it, unconsciously, from habit. She sees your emotion and leans towards you.<br /><br />"I'm sorry for your loss and the pain," she says simply.<br /><br />"It's been a few years since she's been gone and the pain is still there, at times," you say, softly. The words are fresh and raw. "At other times it's a dull ache in my bones." The words are spoken in barely a whisper. Indeed, the tears well up again and you can't speak for a few minutes. It's night-time now and the crickets softly sing. The air has a chill to it and she shivers. The silence between you grows.<br /><br />"Well, I'm sorry but I must sleep," she says, and unwinds her body from the chair she was perched in. "Thank you for the talk and the food. We'll see each other in the morning," she says, confidently. You rise up and shake hands with her. Her palm is warm, and dry, and her handshake is firm, and steady. "Can I ask you to find me a blanket please?" She smiles at you.<br /><br />"Oh yes, that would help, wouldn't it?" you exclaim. You lead the way to your room and undo a trunk, in the corner. Within, are piles of clean sheets and two warm blankets. You hand them to her. "Would you like help making up the bed?" you offer, not sure if you should do it or if she wants to do it herself.<br /><br />"Oh no, that's no worry. I can get it done myself, quickly. Thank you for these." She indicates the sheets and blanket in her arms. "Um, excuse me, but I need to use the toilet. What do you do for that?" she says, blushing furiously.<br /><br />"Oh my goodness, of course. We can't forget about that detail, can we?" you say. "Here, follow me, and I'll show you where I keep the chemical toilet." You lead the way towards the bathroom. There, in a small, little room on its own, is a toilet, just as you said, with a covering over the doorway.<br /><br />"Thank you for this," she says, smiling at you.<br /><br />"No trouble. Have a good night's sleep," you say, watching her disappear into the bathroom.<br /><br />"Good night," she replies. She uses the washroom and then makes her way, along the ledge, to her room. You stand there, watching her walk away. You're lost in reverie, remembering the words you'd revealed. You say to yourself, "I didn't tell her enough about my past. I need to tell her more." You go and retrieve your torch from the hook. Then you blow out the lantern. You head to the washroom yourself, and then your bedroom, and get ready for bed. You lay there, lost in thought again. Unburdening yourself to her felt good. It felt right to tell her about Ethel, your grandmother.<br /><br />The next morning dawns clear, and sunny, with a sky free of clouds. You arise first and get a kettle of water boiled. You're making the tea when she appears. She looks like a fresh daisy early in the morning, fresh and clean and beautiful against the drab grey of the rock. "Good morning, how are you Gareth?" she asks.<br /><br />"I'm well, thank you, and how was your night in a proper bed Lesley?" you ask her.<br /><br />"I had a wonderful sleep," she replies, with a smile. "Is that fresh tea? Mm, I'd love a cup of that," she continues, with a smile. She likes what she sees of you this morning. You're dressed in jeans only, with a bare chest. Your chest hair runs into a narrow vee that ends at the waistband of your jeans. The jeans hang on your hips. You're tall, and handsome, with a interesting mole on your cheek. Your hair is long, dark, and messy looking, where your fingers had run through it. It has some grey streaks in it already, betraying your age, a bit. Your beard hasn't any grey in it at all. It's a dark brown colour. She has a illogical urge to get close to you, and give your skin a little lick, to see if your skin tastes salty. Her mind has an image, suddenly, of touching your chest, and running her fingers down. She is shocked inside to have this feeling, to get close to a stranger, after all, and suddenly turns away from you. You wonder what's on her mind, as you see her brow furrow, as she turns away. You pour out two cups of tea and walk hers over to her. Her smile is back as she turns back, towards you, and accepts the hot mug of tea you are offering to her. "Thanks," she says, simply. "Could I have a spot of milk and a bit of sugar, please, for my tea?"<br /><br />"Oh certainly," you say, turning around and retrieving the milk from the fridge. You don't take milk in your tea. Next, you get the sugar, in its plastic container, off the shelf. She helps herself. "What would you like for breakfast?" you ask, after a few sips of hot tea. "I was going to make oatmeal porridge for myself."<br /><br />"Oh yes, that sounds wonderful," she replies, with a smile. "Would you like some help with that?"<br /><br />"No thanks, just enjoy your tea while you can," you reply to her kind offer. "So, what brings you to this part of the country?" you ask her, as you set about making the porridge. Your mind is on her and not on the automatic chore of making breakfast. As you ask her this, you are wanting more details about her decision to come out to the southwest. It feels incomplete for you. The curiosity factor is there, as to why she made this decision, seemingly out of the blue. She pauses for a minute, gathering her thoughts.<br /><br />"I've decided to start fresh out here," she replied. "Back home, there's too much baggage and despair." She doesn't elaborate farther and sips her tea.<br /><br />"Sounds as though you have a story in there, in your life. Care to share it with me?" you reply, when it's obvious she's not going to fill you in any farther.<br /><br />"Maybe later," she replies with a noncommittal smile, and turns away. "It's amazing to see how the flowers grow, even in the solid rock," she says. Even you can tell when a subject is dropped and you leave it alone, for now.<br /><br />"Yes, it's quite beautiful really how the plants grow down here. They get just enough rain and sunshine to flourish and not wither away, as they would up on the desert floor. When it rains here, it really pours down in a torrential stream." Your conversational tone flows over her and she feels happy again. Your topic of conversation earlier, unsettled her somewhat, as she doesn't feel ready to discuss it with you, yet.<br /><br />The breakfast is ready. You both sit and eat the hot porridge together. It's nice having a companion here with you, you realize. "I like having you here," you say, out of the blue. She smiles at you.<br /><br />"Yes, for some reason I feel I know you," she blurts out. "I feel a companionship with you already," she continues. This gives you pause for thought as you digest the words. Somehow, you know what she means. You both finish your breakfast and do the dishes together, you washing, her drying.<br /><br />"There, all done," as you slide the last cup back onto the shelf. It's a neat, compact kitchen with shelves mounted on the wall. It's plain and simple and it does you fine. "Would you like to try some rock climbing today?" you ask her.<br /><br />"Rock climbing!" she exclaims. "Yes, I love to rock climb but have only done it on a climbing wall," she continues. "Where would we be doing it?" Her face is eager, and open with excitement, at the thought of climbing.<br /><br />"I've been exploring some caves in this area, and have found a deep one, that I'd like to try out today. Would you be interested in trying it out?"<br /><br />"Yes, I'd love to try it out but I don't promise to be brave with a cave! I may find it too claustrophobic," she replies. Her face is smiling as she says that. You can tell she's not too worried about it all.<br /><br />"Well, you'll never know until you try!" you say, with a hint of pride in your voice, for her brave attitude.<br /><br />"I suppose it doesn't really matter if I leave my car sitting for another day, after all. What's another day?" she says, laughing.<br /><br />"Yes, your car is likely safe, if it's not working, anyhow," you agree, thinking about that for a moment. "Well, let's get ready to do some climbing then, okay?" You smile at her.<br /><br />"Sure, I'll go get ready." She walks off to get changed. You set about getting your ropes and other climbing equipment organized. She watches you, enjoying the sight of you working in front of her. The sight of a guy with just jeans on, with no top, is somewhat appealing to her. Again, she's shocked at the feeling of wanting to touch you, for some reason. She also feels light, and free, and happy, this morning. The matter of her car, sitting there, broken, is not on her mind at all now. The air is dry and warm today with the sun just peering into the cleft now as it rises in the sky. The cleft warms up and you start to feel warm, working at packing the ropes into a carryall. You don a shirt, hiding that lovely chest hair.<br /><br />Finally, you are ready to go. She's got running shoes on and comfortable jeans and a t-shirt. You invite her to climb up the ladder first and then you follow her with the carryall. You ask her, "Would you like to practice a bit here, just down into the cleft?" She agrees and you get set up there with a piton. The rope is belayed and then you go over the edge of the cleft. After you rappel down and climb up again, you help her get her hands set correctly with her harness on. As your arms go around her, showing her the proper way to hold the rope, you get a longing to kiss her. It's an unnatural reaction, after all. This is a woman whom you barely know. But it's there. The moment passes.<br /><br />"Oh, I'm a bit scared, at this bit, the going over the edge." She looks a little worried and hesitates, for a moment.<br /><br />"Don't worry, the rope attached to the piton will support you. I'm right here in case anything goes wrong." You regard each other and smiles break out on both faces.<br /><br />"Okay, here I go." She lowers herself over the edge. She descends fairly smoothly down to the bottom of the cleft. Cheering, her arms in the air, you hear her whoop, "I did it! Hurray!"<br /><br />"Good for you," you say, looking over the edge, down at her. You pack up the ropes again, as she climbs up the ladder, to join you. "Okay, off to the caves now," you say. You point out the direction you want to take to the cave. She is helping out by carrying the knapsack of food you're bringing, with the lunch within it. You trudge along, the dust rising in your wake.<br /><br />"This brings back memories," she says, with a laugh. "I was so glad to find your little cleft and find that fresh water."<br /><br />"Yes, you looked as though you needed water," you reply, with a similar, short laugh. You make your way up the slope of the ridge. It is quite a long, and dusty walk. Then, descending down the ridge, it's hard to not walk too fast. After a one hour walk, you get to the mouth of the cave you've found. "Okay, here we are," you announce. "Ready for some adventure?" you ask her with a wicked grin on your face. She laughs out loud, enjoying this adventure.<br /><br />Continued in Chapter 3Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453059149331143480.post-71509435957559079002006-12-05T05:54:00.000-05:002006-12-05T05:57:58.558-05:00Chapter 1 of a Cleft StoryThe Cleft Story<br /><br />Chapter 1<br /><br />She is a lonely woman. Her shoulders bow deeply, and her head hangs low. Her demeanour is tired, lonely, and defeated. Her backpack strains against her shoulders, cutting deep into the flesh, as she treads along. She's too tired to care, too lost in her little private hell. Then, she sees a fence. "No trespassing," claims an old, faded sign. But she sees an old trailer parked in the distance. She swings the backpack off her back, and then swings it over the fence. She carefully holds the old barbed wire strands apart, and reaches her leg through the gap. After she's successfully through the fence, she swings the backpack up again onto her shoulders. The familiar aches and pains soon manifest themselves again. She is saying to herself, "I hope there is water there, I hope there is water there," over and over again.<br /><br />As she reaches the proximity of the trailer she can tell it's been abandoned for a long time. She knows she won't find any water here. But a windmill in the near distance catches her eye, and she swings course to head for it. A cleft in the ground is near this windmill and a smile breaks out across her face. Her back straightens up and she is almost running now. Her eyes brighten as she peers over the edge of the cleft to see a pool of water below. She notices a ladder down into the cleft, on the other side. She runs to it, climbs down the multiple ladders and kneels by the pool, scooping up water and drinking it thirstily. A voice booms out, ricocheting around the cleft, "that water isn't that fresh, young lady." Her head whips around to find the source of the voice. It is you, standing there like an apparition to her, but all so real as well. "Here, have a drink of some fresh water," you say, as you offer your canteen for her. She comes toward you, wary, yet trusting you. She reaches for the canteen and eagerly drinks some water. You smile, trusting her. "Where have you come from?" you ask her as she finished drinking.<br /><br />"I've been walking for 3 days," she says, in a tiny voice, that is rough, from not speaking in a long time. "My car broke down, and I've been looking for a settlement since," she continues. You smile at her, benevolence in your gaze, upon her face. Her face is now streaked with dirt where the water had splashed.<br /><br />You bend down to the pool of water, and get your handkerchief wet and then stand up and approach her. "I'm going to clean your face," you say, in a confident tone. She smiles as you dab at the dirt on her face, cleaning it off. "There, you look a little cleaner now," you say, with a broad smile. You take in the view of her. Her face is strong and angular, with broad cheekbones, and a nice nose. Her eyes are deep set in her face, and her lips are full and luscious and pink. Her clothes are a old khaki shirt and pale jeans which are very dirty, at this point in time. Her feet are in old leather sandals. Her body is full and yet slim and shapely. She stands there, watching you as you survey her. "Would you like something to eat?" you say, with a start, remembering your manners.<br /><br />"Yes, please, I'm starving!" she says, with a returned smile. You lead the way up the stone staircase to the kitchen area. You indicate a seat to her and she perches herself on a chair. You cut her a thick slice of bread and a piece of cheese, then hand them to her, on a plate. She eagerly eats it up. You pour her a tumbler of water as well, then there is silence. She is intent in her devouring of the food offered. The only sound is the wind in the cleft rustling plants. Then the thin, piercing cry of a hawk is heard. You dream of your grandma at that time, remembering the times here, with her, and how special they were. How you long to see her face again, one more time. Inside you, the tears are there again, at her loss. After all this time, the remembering still hurts, still draws the tears to the surface, like a wound deep, piercing the flesh, and surface healed but never truly closed. How the pain still hurts. It's a part of you forever.<br /><br />She speaks. "Thank you for the food, I truly appreciate your hospitality." Her smile is wide, showing you her pleasure.<br /><br />"Oh no, it's my pleasure to offer you my humble food," you say, your reverie brought to a sudden close. This sudden closure to your thoughts is a mercy. "Would you like to clean up now?" you ask her.<br /><br />"Yes, that would be nice," she says. Her face is lit up by the smile. You show her to a room down at the other end of the cleft.<br /><br />"I'll bring a bowl of water and a towel for you," you say, then turn and walk away. She thanks you when you return with them. Then, you leave her in peace to wash. Your mind wanders as you stand in the bottom of the cleft, your boots crushing the small violets underneath them.<br /><br />"Where does she come from? Will she understand what I am? Isn't it lovely having a woman here again, to talk to?" are all thoughts that race through your mind as you stand there, rooted to the spot, as though a frozen statue. You hear her singing suddenly. The sweet sound of a woman's voice, raised in song in the Cleft, is a pleasant sound. It brings memories of long ago times. You push away those thoughts forcibly, not wanting that pain to surface again. You go and retrieve a pair of pants and a shirt of yours for her to wear. You lay them on the lip of the cleft outside the room she is in and you speak through the thin cloth covering the doorway. "I've left some fresh clothes for you out here."<br /><br />She says "Oh thanks very much but I've got some fresh clothes in my backpack." You remember then that she did have a backpack upon her back.<br /><br />"Ah well, that's good to hear," you say, with a smile. She appears suddenly and smiles back at you. Her whole demeanour has changed. With the fresh clothes also comes pride and assurance in her natural beauty. "You look better," you continue. The warmth radiates between you.<br /><br />"Well, with a pound of dust washed off me, I feel like a new woman!" she says, walking towards you. "Hi, my name is Lesley. I have to say thank you for the food, the water, and the towel, for cleaning myself up with. It's a blessing that I found you. Thanks!" Her face is alight with the joy inside her.<br /><br />"My pleasure to help a lady in distress. My name is Gareth, and I'm very pleased to meet you Lesley." Your face echoes her joy. She reaches out her hand and you shake hands. "Let's go have another drink and have a seat and talk," you ask her.<br /><br />"Sure, lead the way," she replies. You turn and lead the way to the kitchen.<br /><br />"Would you like a glass of lemonade to drink?"<br /><br />"Yes, that would be lovely!" You make up some fresh lemonade and pour two glasses of it. She is sitting in one of the chairs. You bring the drinks over to the table and set them down. The two of you sit and talk, finding things out, about each other. You find out that she was driving out here, lost and that she's not really got a place in mind to go to. It's more a sightseeing trip, with no real plan to it. "I'm likely foolish to admit to you that I'm not expected anywhere, but that's the way it is," she says, shrugging her shoulders. You get the feeling that she's just tired of life. She doesn't seem to care if you are a crazy nut or not. It's all an adventure to her. She seems to be running from something, you think. You wonder if, perhaps, she's on drugs. The thought does cross your mind. But, somehow, she doesn't seem the type. Her clothes speak of obvious quality, and somehow, you can tell she's intelligent, in her thoughtful answers. The alarm bells are not ringing in your head for this woman. Similarly, she feels a comfortable sense in your presence. She does know she's silly to inform you that basically, if she disappeared, no-one would know. You continue talking, the conversation flowing easily.<br /><br />"Would you like to stay here tonight?" you ask her, the thought suddenly occurring to you, that she'll need somewhere to stay. You don't want to be driving her somewhere at this time of the day.<br /><br />"Is it a problem if I stay here until I can arrange for my car to be picked up from where it broke down?" She looks at you, questions in her mind. There is an air of tense anticipation about her, suddenly.<br /><br />"Of course not! You are more than welcome to spend as many nights here as you want!" you declare. "The nearest town is about a half hour drive away." You smile at her, relieved that you'll have her company. Her body relaxes at your words. Between the two of you, there is a feeling of companionship, already. For some reason, the ice was easily broken between you. Then, you suggest dinner. You start to prepare it and she offers to help. You make pizza with her, instructing her how to press out the circle of dough with her hands, then dancing the circle of dough around your finger tips to make it into a smooth even circle of dough. Then, you show her how it goes on the stone. She helps with the toppings for it, by slicing up the green pepper and onion. Once the cheese is grated, and put on the top, you slide it into the freshly cleaned stone oven. It has been swept clear of the ashes and coals, which have been pushed to the side and are glowing in their intense heat.<br /><br />Once the pizza is done, you both enjoy eating the fresh, tender morsels of pizza until there is nothing left. Afterwards, you talk more. "What brings you here, to live in a cleft, in the desert?" she asks you. You hesitate to tell her the complete answer but you know that anything but the truth, isn't good enough. Still, you hesitate, not knowing if she'll believe you, or not.<br /><br />"This is my home, and has been for a long time," you start. She sits there, in the fading light, a beautiful woman, alert to your words, eager for them to spill out and inform her. She's scared about what you may reveal, realizing it's going to be good yet dreading them.<br /><br />Continued in Chapter 2Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453059149331143480.post-80690049042031222002006-11-06T11:13:00.000-05:002006-11-06T11:15:23.370-05:00This is my first post on my Myst blogI just wanted to post to point out a new Wiki for the Myst World. <a href="http://www.mystlore.com/wiki/Main_Page">Mystlore</a> is going to be great if we all contribute to it.Toria/Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05537256392870281750noreply@blogger.com0