Canon Ch. 08

I should've known it was a dream when the place kept changing, she thought. But still....

It was so real...

She rolled onto her side, and froze.

That smell....

That was more than the scent of Geoff's body. That was his sweat, his armpits, the smell of his exertion and excitement.

She knew it well, even though she had not smelled it since the island. She had smelled it in the weight room, in the steam room, and lying under him when they fucked. She loved that smell. There was no doubt.

She lay awake in their bed.

What was happening?

---

Morning, two days later. Amy was preparing a simple breakfast for herself and thinking.

It had been more than three months since the funeral; she still ached, and missed Geoff terribly, but that vivid and unexpected sense of his presence seemed to come to her at the times she felt most bereft and alone - sometimes mysteriously accompanied by his scent, and sometimes not.

That gave her something to think about, and reminded her of their most precious memories. It was enough to blunt the pain.

But night before last - that was different.

She shivered as she transferred her eggs to a small plate. Dreams usually fade in a few hours if you don't speak of them; but her memory of this dream only grew more vivid, more real. She could still almost feel his hands on her sweaty body, her hands in his coarse, straight hair....

Wait a minute....

His hair?

The memory, from her dream, was clear. But...

Her brain hit a brick wall on that one. She shook her head to clear it.

Amy sat down to eat. She dropped a bit of egg on her thigh - and only then did she consciously notice that she was naked.

Well, it's Saturday, she thought - and then realized what she had done. She had dressed for Geoff, going naked for the weekend.

She pushed her plate aside and began to cry.

"Oh, Geoffie," she sobbed. "What am I going to do? I miss you so much..."

---

A short time later, she got up from the table and looked down at the seat of her chair. A random thought occurred to her; how long has it been since I had my period?

She last remembered putting in a tampon....

On the island....?

Couldn't be, she thought.

She had gone off birth control more than a year before. Geoff had firmly declared that he was too old to raise a child, but after his equipment stopped functioning, there didn't seem much point in continuing with the Pill....

She made a mental note to pick up a pregnancy test at the store, then forgot about it.

Surely not....

---

The vivid sex dreams came no more than once every couple of weeks. They were eerily real - but there were strange, jarring aspects of them that she found vaguely disturbing.

He was younger in those dreams, and only in those; he had a full head of black, straight hair, and there was something different about his eyes - something that she could not quite put her finger on when she awoke.

Geoff had had curly hair when he was young. She had long since gone out to the garage to look again at the picture of him with his Deuce sedan; and sure enough, his hair in the faded old photo was thick and curly.

The differences were troubling, and confusing. Still, Amy found herself looking forward to those dreams. She did not masturbate, and always slept naked, both in hopes that one would come to her in the night.

And sometimes - not often enough, but sometimes - one did.

---

...They were making love by the pool, naked under the warm sun. Geoff kissed her throat, and she stroked his hair and lifted her chin for it.

This time was even more different; Amy was aware that it was a dream, even as it first began. She opened her eyes and looked at the waterfall as Geoff kissed her shoulder. It seemed real; she could hear it, and could even smell the chlorine in the water.

She had read of "lucid dreams," when one knew that one was dreaming and could control it; but she had never had one. She decided to try it.

She sat up on the grass and put her hand on his chest. He sat up, too, and looked at her.

He was much younger than Geoff had been, no more than forty. He had no scars. His hair was long, straight, and jet black; and his face was subtly different. This is Geoff - but not Geoff, she thought.

If she spoke to him, would he answer?

"Geoff?"

He grinned, and his smile was different too. "What, naked girl?"

His voice was not as deep, not as resonant. But she felt the same love and trust from him...

What's going on here? she thought, still inside the dream.

He moved closer. "Open the door for me, sweet heat."

Sweet heat. Geoff had never called her that, but she liked it.

In the dream, she knew what he meant by "open the door" - and she lay back and opened her legs, pulling her knees back, exposing herself to him completely.

This was the most vivid dream ever; she felt the individual blades of grass on her skin, was conscious of her curling toes, the sun on her nipples, the curve of his huge cock as he rubbed it against her oozing lips...

That was different, too. This Geoff's cock was bigger, and curved upward more, with a head that flared outward more at the rim...

She thought of the shower, and they were there - and he was inside her, his big, iron-hard dick sliding in and out, his hands holding her ass as the warm spray bathed them both.

She forgot to ask more questions, lost in the sensation, lost in the dream again. She felt the tiles against her skin, smelled the fragrant soap, his hands on her body, hers on his...

She humped back at him gratefully, hungrily, reveling in the feel of being fucked again, by her only love, so good, so good...

---

When she awoke - covered with sweat once more, as she was after all the fucking dreams - she had much to think about; but she had nothing to think with.

What did it mean? Why was this Geoff different, but somehow the same? Why did these dreams begin now, so long after, so long since he'd been gone?

She had no answers.

---

A few days later, Amy had something else to think about. Seeing the big blue cross on the pregnancy test stick had filled her with both joy and trepidation. She had a part of Geoff inside her, and his line would go on - but raising a child? Was she ready?

Guess I'll have to be, she thought.

Then she smiled. Geoff's child....

I'll be ready.

---

She was walking back to her car after helping a coworker take some boxes into her apartment at a complex near the nursing home. It was not a good part of town, and her senses were on high alert as she approached the Camry.

She heard their steps before she heard the ugly laughter. She turned, betraying no nervousness or fear.

There were three of them, none of them small. One held a long-bladed knife; one held a handgun. The third held both.

Her mind snapped into overdrive. She felt no fear at all; she was too focused on analyzing the situation to have time or attention for it. Geoff had told her about this.

"Hey, pretty mama. We want your purse. And then we want your car. And then we want your pussy." The laughter again.

She wasn't looking at their faces. She was assessing the threat.

Left-hand guy held a knife; dismiss. Middle guy held a .45, like Geoff's, same gun she had trained with. The gun was uncocked, chamber probably empty. Right-hand guy, cheap automatic, probably a .25. Safety was on.

Let them come closer. Closer. Middle guy reaching for her purse....

Everything went into slow motion then; some force, more than her training, more than herself, took over. It was as if she stood outside herself watching, even her thoughts, as the next few seconds passed in strangely slowed-down and closely observed detail.

....Slap right-hand guy's gun away, grab middle guy's .45, twist sharply to left to break finger with triggerguard, ignore scream, transfer gun to right hand, rack slide to chamber round, two-hand grip, flash sight picture on right-hand guy, gun coming up, now, now, center chest, double tap, bang, bang, left-hand guy coming in with knife, ignore, center chest, bang, bang, center chest middle guy, second knife, too close, center face, bang, bang, check other two, both falling, middle guy going down too, check perimeter, no other hostiles approaching, muzzle up, step back, assess. Three bad guys on the ground, none moving. All secure.

.....Suddenly time went back to normal, and Amy found herself holding the big .45 and pointing it at the sky. Her ears were ringing, but she had no memory of having heard the shots.

And there were three dead men at her feet.

"Thank you, Geoffie," she whispered. She knew who had taken over her mind and body for those critical few seconds. She could not have done this herself, and those thoughts had not been her own.

For a brief moment, she knew, she had actually been inside Geoff's mind, and he inside hers.

And she knew something else; he was as proud of her as she was grateful to him. She had not frozen up nor panicked. If she had, he could not have taken over.

She knew what to do now. She flipped open her cell phone and dialed 911.

"Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?"

She looked around as she answered. No one had come out to investigate; in this neighborhood, you stayed inside when you heard shots. "I just killed three men who were about to rob and rape me," she said, quite calmly.

There was an instant of silence on the line.

"Would you say that again, please, Miss?"

---

Amy had not moved when the first police car pulled up. She still held the gun; she knew it still contained one live round, and she had kept it ready till the police got there.

As the high beams illuminated her, she laid the weapon at her feet and held up both hands to show them empty. As the officers exited the car and came toward her, she kept her hands visible.

The senior officer, a sergeant by his stripes, looked down at the three bodies, then at the small young woman. He took his hat off and scratched his head.

"What happened here, Miss? And may I see your I.D.?"

---

Any was not arrested, through she was asked to come to the station and sign a formal statement. She was even allowed to drive her own car; it was deemed unwise to leave it unattended in that neighborhood. It probably helped that the senior officer was quite familiar with all three of the thugs she had killed.

At the station, Amy calmly dictated a very clear and detailed account of what had transpired. After it was typed up, she read it over and signed it.

Just as she finished, right on cue, an assistant district attorney stuck his head in the interrogation room and said, "She's good to go. City may give her a medal." Then he looked at Amy. "I guess those punks messed with the wrong lady," he said with a wry grin.

Amy smiled. "I was lucky," she said.

He came fully into the room and shook his head. "No, Mrs. Rider. You were..." He paused. "You are dangerous. There's not a cop on this force that could do what you did. I'm just glad you're one of the good guys." He smiled, nodded, and left.

The sergeant who had first come to the scene was still sitting across from her. "Mrs. Rider," he said, "I meant to tell you earlier; let me offer my condolences on the death of your husband. He was a good man. The best."

She smiled. "Thank you. Please call me Amy. Did you know Geoff?"

The old cop grinned. "I wrote him a big, fat speeding ticket once," he said. "A hundred and forty-five in a fifty zone. And that night he bought me a beer and we swapped war stories. We were friends."

"Marine?" He nodded. "Semper fi," she said.

They shook hands. "Listen, Amy," he said, "you're not the typical 'crime victim' here - it's hard to see how you're a 'victim' at all - but you still fall in that category. And that means there are services available to you, counseling and so on, that we have to offer."

Amy began to get up. "I'm really not -"

"I know," said the police sergeant. "But bear with us anyway. Our victim liaison has some paperwork for you anyway, a survey and like that."

Then he grinned. "Besides, he's a new guy. We all can't wait to see how he deals with a 'victim' that kills the perps for us. I suspect that'll be a first for him." He shook his head. "It sure as hell was for me."

Amy sat back. "Well, okay. I don't want to screw up anyone's paperwork," she said dryly.

The sergeant grinned. "Okay," he said. "Thanks. He'll be in in a minute. Nice meeting you, Amy."

"I just wish it was under different circumstances," she said.

He grinned again, a little savagely. "These circumstances will do just fine," he said. "I knew all of those boys, Amy. You did us all a big favor."

She shrugged, nodded, and sat back to wait.

As she sat, Amy examined her feelings. She knew that killing was supposed to be traumatic, haunting.

She felt nothing. She had done what she had to do, no more. Those men's blood wasn't on her hands. It was on their own.

She wondered what this man would have to offer her - and then the door opened.

"Oh. Oh. Oh, my God," she said.

It was Geoff - the Geoff from her erotic dreams.

He was a young Geoff - and he wasn't. Shorter, his face broader, with a distinct Asian cast; his eyes bore a suggestion of the epicanthic fold, and his hair was black and straight.

As he turned to look at her, his eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open, and he echoed her: "Oh, my God..."

He was openly gaping, almost in shock; he dropped his papers and brochures all over the floor and ignored them, just staring. "Your eyes," he said, his voice strangled and shaky. "I know you..."

"You've had the dreams too," she said in wonder.

He nodded. "This can't be," he said.

She smiled. "Evidently it can."

Then, "Don't you have some papers for me?"

"Uh. Uh, yeah. Just a minute..."

He gathered up the things he had dropped, his hands shaking, and deposited them on the table. He sat down, fumbled for a moment, then held out a card.

Amy took it. "Jeffrey Collins, Victim Liaison," it read.

She looked up. "May I call you Jeff?" she asked. He nodded, numbly, staring at her eyes.

She smiled. "I think we need to talk."