Making Up Lost Time

"Shit."

"What?"

Rob pointed at glowing the sign.

ACCIDENT EXIT 28
ALL LANES BLOCKED

"Probably the fog. Can't see for shit."

Rob checked his mirrors, down shifted, and rolled off the interstate.

"Where are we going?"

"A long cut. It's further, but it'll get us home sooner than if we stayed on the highway."

They drove along for several minutes in silence. The fog grew thicker. Rob downshifted. He slid his hand over to Sally's knee, under her skirt.

"Mind your driving."

He slowed further, pulled off the road, ran his hand further up her leg.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"What's it feel like. We're out here, miles from nowhere, all foggy, no one will see. Be like when we were dating."

She pulled his hand out, brushed it aside.

"No!"

"Aw, come on."

"Is that all you ever think about?"

"Used to be all you ever thought about, too. Come on."

"No, damnit!"

He grabbed her hand, squeezed the ring.

"So you got what you wanted, is that it? Hm? And now the game changes?"

He tossed her hand aside.

"Witch."

He never used the b-word, but she knew what he meant.

"If you had any hope of getting lucky tonight, well, you can just forget about it."

Rob jammed the car in gear, fish-tailed a bit coming back onto the road.

The night was black as pitch. A sole light appeared then receded in the rearview mirror. The car died.

"What the ..."

Rob coasted to a stop, tried the key several times. The lights dimmed with each crank, but the engine wouldn't catch.

"Great. Just friggin' great."

"Don't start, Sally. Don't fucking start. Give me your cell."

He flipped it open.

"Lovely. No signal."

He pushed the door open.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to that house. Out here in the sticks, they probably have a landline."

Sally slammed the door and followed him. They trudged up the road together, he with a sense of quiet resignation, she in a cold fury.

At the house, they stepped up onto the porch, opened the screen door and knocked. The door opened a crack, then wider to reveal the small shape of an old woman. It wasn't so much that she was small, but hunched over a cane. She had a wizened face, heavily lined, and her hands were crooked and gnarly.

"Uh, hi. Our car broke down and there's no cell phone service here. Do you have a phone?"

She looked from one to the other, opened the door a crack further and pointed her cane at a small desk.

"Thank you."

"You'll want to call Murray. Number's in the book."

Rob made the call and Murray assured him he'd be there shortly.

"Would you folks like some tea while you wait?"

Not really, Sally thought, but Rob said, "Sure. Thanks."

They sat at the kitchen table. The crone turned to the counter, turned back with two steaming mugs.

Sally said, "Thanks," took a sip and then it dawned on her that the woman had neither heated water nor steeped the tea. She simply turned, then turned back. Or maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. Maybe she'd just made tea and happened to have some still hot.

Rob sipped from his cup, fidgeted, fidgeted some more.

"Uh, I think I'll wait for Murray outside."

As he stood and turned, Sally noticed the enormous bulge in his pants. It looked like his zipper was about to burst. Sally shook her head in disgust.

The woman reached over, put her hand on Sally's arm.

"So, what are your names?"

"I'm Sally, he's Robert, Rob."

"Married long?"

"Two years and a bit."

"Happy."

Sally paused, shrugged.

"Yeah. I guess."

"That doesn't sound too positive. Is there a problem."

"He pesters me."

"Pesters you?"

"Yeah, you know, for sex."

"You don't like sex?"

"Not particularly."

"So why would he pester you for sex if you don't like it?"

And before she could stop herself, Sally told her, told her the whole story. She couldn't help herself. The words just came tumbling out. Rob came from money, she came from the wrong side of the tracks. It was the old story. The way to get him to open his bank account was to open her legs. He treated her well enough and she let him hump her most nights. It was the price she paid.

The front door creaked open. Rob stepped into the kitchen.

"He's here."

Sally started to get up, but the woman held her hand.

"Please sit, Dear."

She reached her other hand toward Rob who took it. Sally could still see the ominous bulge under Rob's coat.

"Why don't you take care of this. Let her stay and visit. I get so few visitors."

Rob blinked at her and said, "Yeah. Sure. Okay."

"Fine." She released his hand.

The woman handed Sally a fresh cup of tea

Sally didn't remember falling asleep, didn't remember waking up, either. But when she opened her eyes she stared into a face, the face of a young woman - her own face. Sally's head swam. She tried to clear it, but it was all foggy.

"Ah. You're awake," the other Sally said.

"What-"

The other placed her fingers on Sally's lips.

"Shh."

Sally tried to respond, then realized she couldn't.

The woman took her hand, raised it. Sally saw the twisted, wrinkled form. Somewhere in her brain she was terrified, nothing was making sense.

"You are me and I am now you, Dear. I had just enough power for the exchange, just barely enough. I've been hoarding it all these years, all these decades waiting for just the right moment, the right situation."

"I am a prisoner here. Or rather was a prisoner. The others feared my power. Oh, I was very powerful. I was able to do things they could not. And they feared me. I had never harmed them or anyone else for that matter," she shrugged, "but, still, they were afraid."

She gestured.

"So they imprisoned me here."

"I was marked." She touched her chest. "Inside. You carry that mark now."

"The spell was powerful. It took five of them. And it has kept me here for more years than I care to count."

"We are not normally a powerful lot. Our powers are fairly weak. We cannot create things, nor destroy them. We cannot even control others. But we can, uh, influence them."

"The tea I gave you made you susceptible to my influence. It was the same with your husband. I merely had to touch him and he did my bidding. Although, that's not completely true. I sensed he didn't want you with him in the first place."

"This trick, this exchange, it is the type of thing that scared the others. As a child I would change places with animals. It was so much fun. Birds were the best. Oh, how I loved to fly! Then I found I could do it with people. And that's when they caught me, placed me here."

"I'm afraid you won't be able to leave the house. When you step outside you will feel a tightness in your chest. If you stay out too long or stray to far from the house your heart will burst - literally."

"You will live out your life here. While your body is frail, you are in perfect health and can look forward to many, many years. I have accounts with the electric company and phone and cable and the grocers. They deliver. You'll find everything you need in the desk. I was very diligent about record keeping. You should have no trouble."

"You might be thinking of calling for help, but that would not be wise. Who would believe you? Some crazy old lady with a fantastic story. They'd probably want to find a safe place for you, for your own good of course. That would be unwise - fatal even."

"There is money. Money to last a lifetime. You will be comfortable enough."

The new Sally sat back.

"I am so tired, so very tired. I hope your husband returns soon. If I don't feed ..."

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, opened them.

"It is the semen, Dear. With us it is truly the elixir of life. Why this is, I do not know. I am not a chemist, but there is something there, some compound that allows me to draw energy from the earth. Not much energy, mind you. The quantities are small. It may take me a year, probably two to regain my full powers."

She held up a white, plastic sack.

"This will help. I put some in his tea. You saw the effect. I know you did. It is like an herbal Viagra with the side benefit of stimulating an increase in the quantity of his fluid. He will not only have the urge, but the increased volume will, uh, motivate him to act. And he will act," she chuckled, "often."

She smiled a crooked smile.

Lights flashed across the room.

"Ah. He is here."

She reached and touched the other on the head.

"Sleep."

She pushed open the door, stepped out onto the porch, hesitated, waited for the vise. There was none.

She skipped off the porch and bounded over to the car. She climbed in.

"You seem happy."

"Yes! Very!"

Rob backed out of the drive.

"What was wrong with the car?"

"Damn if I know. Murray towed it to the shop, put it on the computer, everything checked fine. Started right up."

"Odd."

"What's in the bag?"

"Tea. The old woman gave me some of that tea we had."

The car rolled down the road. The porch light faded in the distance.

"Pull over."

"Hm?"

"Pull over."

Rob steered the car off the road. The woman leaned between the seats, set the bag on the floor in back. She was close to him and she slid her hand between his legs, squeezed his crotch.

"Hey, Sally, don't mess with me, okay?"

"I'm not. I had a long talk with the old woman and she made me realize I haven't been a very good wife. Well all that changes, starting now."

She undid his pants. It was a struggle to get his cock out, hard as it was, but she managed. She lowered her head. It had been decades since she'd done it, but some things you don't forget.

When he came he shrieked, jerking in his seat. She swallowed, swallowed some more. It burned going down her throat, burned like strong whisky. Then she felt the energy. It was faint, but it was there. She kept her mouth glued to him, sucking, swallowing.

He tried to push her head away, but she held on. Sucked and stroked him until he began that familiar twitch.

"Jesus! Sally! Again?"

"Mmm," she purred, his cock half way down her throat. She pulled it free with a slurping pop. "I have to make up for lost time."

 

 

27.05.12