The Chance at Willow Manor

"Yes," I responded, "As much as I knew how to love, she was my one and only."

"Never known love, myself. Always working," she said, "But some boys on the plantation say they want to put their 'love muscle' inside me, the way the old master did. I say 'No' to them...couldn't say 'No' to old master."

"How horrible." I proclaimed, "To be raped by the man who owned you, like that!"

"Weren't so bad," Em said, "Just raise my skirt, he pulls out his little bit, and then huffs and grunts for a couple minutes. Then, I could get back to work, after I clean him off me. Blessed I never had no little ones growin' in me!"

"Well, women are not treated like that today, unless someone is breaking the law," I said, "And, I'm sorry that you never knew the joy of lying with a man you were attracted to."

"Heard it could be somethin' real special," she said, with a knowing grin.

"Yes, it is really special," I agreed, "Now, let me show you the rest of the house."

From there, she was a barrage of questions, with me explaining flushing toilets, water faucets, electricity, telephones, television, computers, refrigerators and stove, disposals, trash compactors, and more. I was very impressed how quickly she grasped modern technology, amidst her astonishment, and how insightful her questions were. Clearly, and understandably, she was most curious about TV and the internet.

Needing to eat for myself, I asked if she was hungry. Emmi said she was not, which surprised her, as she said that she ate a lot, when she was alive. She said I should eat and not to worry about her. I pulled out a frozen meal and she wanted to know how it was cooked. I saw her try to read the package, but she had a hard time. She obviously read a little, but was very inexperienced. She understood the numbers, and with my guidance was able to cook my meal in the microwave. She laughed and grinned, as she felt how hot the microwave had made my food, in only four minutes.

When my meal cooled down, I asked if she wanted to taste it, and she agreed. Taking a small bite, she looked puzzled when she chewed, then a bit alarmed. She went to the sink and spat it out. Coming back to the table, she said, "Sorry, Ted. I tastes nothing, just nothing at all. Then, my body told me I should not swallow. That is not fair! I used to love food!"

"Sorry, Emmi!" I grinned, "I guess we are both learning what it means to be a ghost."

She gave me a little pout, but the twinkle in her eye spoke of her humor.

"This has been quite a day, Emmi. I think I should get some sleep. Do you want to sleep?"

She shook her head, and the hundreds of small ringlets of her hair shuffled to and fro, "I think I would likes to watch that tee vee thing...if that alright?"

"Certainly," I responded, "There is a TV in your room, too. I will show you how to use it. But, you should be aware that many programs may shock you, as the morals of society have changed quite a bit. Also, many shows are just stories someone has made up, and are not really true. Just because it is on TV, or especially on the internet, does not mean it's the truth. Lastly, many of those stories are told like they happened in some past time, but were made for the TV in a later time. So, don't believe that all the things you see are as old they look."

"Likes a play on the stage, s...Ted?" she asked, once again stifling her automatic "Sir."

"Kind of like that, Emmi," I chuckled, "Just don't let anything you see get you too worried." Then I showed her how to use the TV control.

= = = = = = =

I woke and turned over several times during the night, and each time I caught the sound of the TV before I fell back asleep.

The next morning, I awoke to faint TV sounds. I put my bathrobe on, and went downstairs. Emmi was in the family room, watching the big LED TV. Her long, dark legs were crossed on top of the coffee table. "Morning, Emmi. Did you sleep at all?"

Without even turning, she said, "Hi Ted. No, I didn't sleep at all. Never needed to."

I heard what she said, but also, how she said it. There was something a bit different. Some of the 1800's tones in her voices were subdued. Her speech sounded more modern, more concise, and she had even used a contraction. "Did you enjoy the television last night?"

She put her feet down, and turned to face me, "This world is Amazing! What we know about the stars, medicine, and life is hard to believe. There are cars, planes, trains, and men have been on the moon! Then we have sports; the football, the basketball, the Olympics, and more! So many of the men are 'Black', as you call us, now! Black men are in government! I like this world!" I listened and nodded as she continued her exclamations.

Her transformation was amazing. It wasn't humanly possible. But, then she wasn't human, despite her appearance. She seemed to have absorbed everything and comprehended so much. Then her comments shifted, and caught me off guard, "People have sex, just for the enjoyment, due to birth control! Men and women often show most of their bodies in swimsuits. This TV presents men & women lying together. Even men with men, and women with women! This freedom is thrilling!"

Emmi continued, barely taking a breath (if she needed to actually breathe), "I was 20 years old and thought I might never get married at that old age. Now, I may not age, but if I were alive, I could clearly hope to get married at any time and to someone of my choice! Plus I could expect to reach 80 years of age, and to have the health of someone of my time only dreamed of at age 50!"

I was smiling at her enthusiasm, while astounded at the changes in her. I was quickly reassessing what having her in the house would be like.

"And, I found out last night, that I am tied to you!" she said, in a quieter voice.

"I'm not sure what you mean," I said, as my mind played catchup to this twist.

"I watched that Discovery story on the stars. So, I decided to walk outside and look at them. When I was about halfway down the driveway, I saw and felt myself starting to fade away. Moving back closer to the manor returned me to normal. So, I tried walking in a circle around the manor, and I started to fade, whichever direction I went, whenever I was too far from the house. Or rather you."

"Really?" I said, "As the driveway is 300 feet long, then the approximate limit of your range from me is about 150 feet. But why do you think it is me, and not the house that you are tied to?"

"I could just feel it," she smiled, "As I faded, I felt my connection to you fade, as well. None of my sensations were related to the house."

"Wow" I said, in understated amazement. Not knowing quite where to go with this information, I punted with, "Didn't you get cold out there?"

"It was interesting," she replied, sitting back and looking rather thoughtful, "I could sense that the temperature was cool, yet I didn't feel chilled at all. I realized that I have not felt either warm or cold, for my own comfort. But I can recognize different temperatures."

"Then we'll not need to buy you any clothes for different temperatures," I said, "We only need to buy them for fashion or comfort."

"That brings up something else that's interesting," she smiled slyly, "and leads to a question which I have for you."

"What is that," I said, unsuspecting of what was to come.

"While I was outside last night, a few of those cars passed by, and I got a faint sensation from the people inside. Then, a young couple steered into your drive to the manor, in their car. I was at the side of the house. The car went dark, but I could feel their passion for each other. However, I also sensed that they could not see me; that to them, I did not exist. It seems I only exist to you and Jill.

"Jill!" I exclaimed, "Did you talk to her?! What was it like? What..."

Emmi cut me off, with a grin and a wave, "I cannot speak to her, nor her to me. Yet, I could feel her watching...and her contentment. Sort of the way I could sense the passion of the two people in the car, with the steam on the windows."

"But, you did say that Jill was contented and watching?!"

"Yes," Emmi smiled, pleased to be able to inform me of this.

"Wow. Really, wow!" I said, knowing my focus seemed elsewhere. Pulling myself back, I said, "Oh...you said you had a question?"

Now Emmi got a bit shy, as she looked up at me with the tops of her eyes, "Since I now know that only you can see me, that I can be neither cold nor warm, and that with what I learned from the television about current American behavior...then...would you be offended if I simply did not wear clothes?"

"Definitely did not see that coming!" Flustered, I started speaking before I really had made a decision, "Uh...well...I suppose..."

Impatient with my slow answer, she added, "You are the only I would be wearing the clothes for anyway, and our bodies pass through the others, which should limit your physical temptations. And, I would kind of like to try being so daring! You can always change your mind, if you do not like seeing me that way."

Had I liked seeing her nude, yesterday? Absolutely! So, why did this even to need to contemplated? "Yes, you may go without clothes," I suddenly said, in clarity. Emmi, I think you have a beautiful face, and a lovely, smooth and lean body. I think it would be a pleasure to see you in the nude, all the time."

The compliments seemed to catch her by surprise, and she turned her face away, and covered her mouth & nose with her hand. Maybe she was blushing, but her dark color hid it. Then she stood, and said, "Before I change my mind!" and she unabashedly slid the robe off, and placed it on the arm of the couch.

Emmi smiled, a bit shyly, and bluntly asked, "What do you think the men of 2018 would think, if they could see me like this?"

I had to laugh, "Probably a lot like the men of 1852, except your lean body is even more in fashion now, and thus more desirable. They all would want to have sex with you. However, I think you'd find a larger number of men, today, would be concerned with your pleasure, and not just their own. They'd want to make sure that you had an orgasm, as well."

"I heard mention of this orgasm, but what is it?" she asked, with amazing innocence.

I rolled my eyes. I never expected to be trying to explain an orgasm to a woman! "WELL," I began, "I'm not sure where to begin...Do you know what the orgasm is for a man?

"Yes," she said, nodding, "It is when old Master would get larger and then put the warm mess of his seed inside me.

"That is the physical part of the man's orgasm," I explained, "Did you notice how his face looked strange, maybe very happy, or even unfocused, sometimes, when he had his orgasm?"

"Yes, sometimes," she replied, in curiosity, "He would look like his mind was far away, and his face would look like he felt some pleasurable pain."

"That would be the emotional side of a good orgasm, I replied, "And you have never felt something similar to that, yourself?"

She shook her head, "When old Master was moving in me, I felt a little pleasure. But when I tried to recreate it with my fingers one day, my mum got really mad and dadda whipped me with his rope belt."

"As I know it," I sighed, "for a woman, you will feel a building pleasure that urges you to want more and more pleasure, until it reaches a point that all that stored pleasure is released at once. Your body releases substances into your blood which floods your senses with the most wonderful sense of completion. In a woman, the nearing of your orgasm may be indicated by an uncontrolled shaking in your legs, and possibly shudders through your body. When the orgasm occurs, you may also have uncontrolled muscle reactions throughout your body."

"That sounds both exciting, but a bit scary!" she said, eyes a bit wider.

"I think you will find it so pleasurable, that it wouldn't seem scary," I offered, then corrected, "Well, could find it pleasurable. As a ghost, I don't know if you can create your own orgasm, or even if you can have an orgasm."

"An interesting question," she contemplated, looking down at her thick patch of pubic hair.

"Well, I think I need some breakfast," I said, "And just asking; are you hungry"?

She shook her head, then added, "But, thank you, Ted."

She followed me into the kitchen. "May I operate the mini-wave again?" she asked, with a hopeful grin.

I chuckled, "It's called a micro-wave oven, not 'mini'! And I'm planning 'old-fashioned' cooking, this morning."

She laughed, and her lovely breasts jiggled, "Yes, 'micro' right!"

I made eggs, bacon, and rye toast. I let her turn the dial to start the toaster oven, and she stood and watched it work. Her fascination was quite endearing. After breakfast, I needed to get some architectural work started for my first, potentially paying client in the South. Asking if she wanted to learn and work on my other computer, the laptop, she readily agreed. It had a touch screen, as well as a mouse. However, we found that when she tried to touch the screen, it did not respond as desired. Instead, the image distorted and her finger glowed. So, left with the mouse or trackpad, I gave her some basic instructions, including how to prioritize words for a search.

Her understanding of the process, as well as her reading skills, were astounding, and I left her in the family room to try searches while I showered and dressed. Going back into the family room, I walked up behind her, and found her lovely naked back was tilted forward, with her face scanning the screen.

"Find very much?" I asked.

Without turning, she replied, "This is amazing! There is so much about anything I can think of! But how do you know what is the truth? And why do so many places try to sell me whatever I search about, but then say that "The search returned '0' results?"

I chucked, "Before I answer, I just want to make sure I'm not scaring you when I walk up behind you like that?"

Emmi turned to smile at me, "What do I have to be scared of? Anyway, I know where you are, nearly all the time."

"You do?!" I asked, in surprise.

"Yes" she said, "I sense it."

"Really?" I said, "Anyway, as to your questions, I guess they are both issues about truth. The internet, as with most anything mankind does, is most popular for people to make money with. Those obnoxious search responses simply repeat whatever you are searching for, and then say that they sell it, even if it is something that cannot be sold. They just want you to go to their 'website', as it's called, and then maybe find something else you might want to buy."

"But, that is deceitful! Don't people get offended at that, and then refuse to buy from them?" she asked.

I answered, "Some people probably do, but such deceit is so common on the internet that we, as humans, get rather indifferent to it. The sellers must have found that that they sell more than they seem to lose, so they continue doing it."

"That is shameful!" she said.

"Yes, it is," I lightly groaned, "Despite all the great things that mankind has created and achieved, human nature has not changed enough. And, as to your other question about 'truth'. I think it is much like it was in your day. If two men say they saw the same horse, but one man claims it was gray and running, while the other man claims it was brown, and trotting; then what is the truth? We can't really know, with no other information. So, we try to find other information that makes one answer more likely to be true than the other. If the horse's owner says he does not own a brown horse, then we may conclude that gray is correct, however usually without questioning whether it may have been a third color, instead."

"And," I continued, "If the one man says 'The horse seemed to be gray, and appeared to be running,' while the other man demands 'The horse was absolutely brown, no question, and anybody that says it was running is a fool!' then many of us shy away from his arrogance, and see his rigid position as more about convincing himself of his own doubts."

"I do see," she said.

"From experience, we come to believe that certain sources of information on the internet are generally more reliable, and that they strive to provide unbiased, accurate information. We seek those out first, as corroboration," I informed.

"Thank you. You should be a teacher!" she grinned, "And I will try not to bother you while you work, today."

I leaned closer to her ear, and said, "Your beauty will always be a pleasant interruption!" She turned her face away from me. "Stop it," she chuckled, after she had worked through a big swallow.

I found myself with a longing to touch her smooth skin, to see what the contrast of my white skin would look like against her magnificent darkness, and to see what my touch would do to that fascinating iridescence that seem to reside just a fraction away from her skin. Knowing contact would be forever fruitless, I turned and left for my office.

Around noon, I heard her call my name softly, from behind me. I turned and saw her leaning against the door frame. "God, she is magnificent to look at, even if that is all I can do with her."

"I know I said I wouldn't bother you, but I was getting a little lonely," she said, with a surprisingly coy grin, "Mind if I come in and see what you are doing?"

"I don't mind at all," I said, and let myself ogle her as she walked over to me. She looked over my shoulder at my twin, large computer monitors, where I was working on a design proposal for the Groman estate.

"Is this a home that you are designing?" she asked.

"Yes" I replied, "That is the work I do. I design homes. With Willow Manor, I reworked many things, which is called 'remodeling'. Sometimes I create the whole home, like the one you see here, so that it can be built."

"When will this home be built?" she asked.

"Well, if the Gromans choose my design over my competition, and make only minor changes, then this home should take about 2 years to complete."

"You must be very smart that you can take a plan like this, and imagine how it will look when you're standing inside it, looking through its windows, and how to use all the things in the house.".

"I hope I am smart enough. It can be hard. But the computer software that I use helps by letting me see what it can look like with walls, floors, and ceilings. Even windows and furniture, if I ask it to do those things. Here, I'll show you." I tapped the designated "F" key, and the main monitor switched to a 3D view. Then I moved the mouse, showing her how you could look around, and 'walk' through the design.

She watched intently for some time, before saying, "Things in this time are so amazing!" Slowly, she stood up, "Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," I smiled, "I will probably get up and make something, in a few minutes."

Emmi smiled, "Would you let my try to make something for you for dinner?"

"I'd rather have some lunch, now. Did you have something specific in mind?" I asked.

In recognition, she said, "Lunch? Oh, yes! You call 'lunch' what we called 'dinner'. As for what to make; no, not really. I don't know what foods you have. I thought maybe you could suggest something, and I could look it up on the computer?"

I thought for a moment, and then answered, "I did have leftover bacon from breakfast. How about you try a BLT sandwich, with potato chips on the side?"

"Then you will let me try?" she said, with a hopeful grin.

"Yes, you can," I chuckled, as I watched her enthusiasm bubble out.

Like counting on her fingers for memory, she hummed happily to herself, "Look up; sandwich, BLT, and potato chips!" as she bounced out of the room.

It took nearly an hour, but she finally came back and chirped, "Lunch is ready!"

I followed her delightful ass back to the kitchen, where she had set it everything out for me. She had put the food one of the good plates, and she waited, rather anxiously, for me to sit and partake. Before me was a quite thick sandwich, with a huge pile of potato chips, the latter from the bag I had bought.