The Music of the Mind Ch. 15

Chapter 15: A Circle of Friends

The drive across Boulder at dusk is always beautiful. The mountains are silhouetted by the setting sun, and the sky glows all colors of orange, yellow, and red. It is a liminal time, a time when I find myself daydreaming. The ancient Celts believed the time of the gloaming was when the veil between the worlds was the thinnest, and that one should be the most careful to avoid confrontations with spirits and the like. Me, I just found myself often melancholy.

That last few days had sped by me so fast that I found myself reeling from the ride and grasping for some kind of firm ground. I had lost the grounding of my home, confronted enemies, and slept with two women whom I never believed I would ever be intimate with. In fact the only one of the group of my four best friends I hadn't slept with was the one I most wanted too. Though, if I was to be honest with myself, once I slept with her, if it ever happened mind you, I think my days of carousing would be over.

The connection I now felt to Susan and Ellen was very strange. With almost no effort I could turn my attention to them, and I could know a very general idea of their well-being. I could sense their emotional and physical state, but only at the most general of levels. I found it comforting in one sense because I knew if they were okay, but I also was troubled wondering if it opened up any exposures for us against Dolkoff.

As I turned off the hill and onto the campus I found myself thinking about my evening with Meg that lay ahead. If Ellen was right, she was going to be rather friendly this evening, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I think that my feelings for her were rather big brotherly, and that the role I had played in protecting her had contributed to that in a big way.

Then, on another front I think I was suffering from intimacy overload. You may find it hard to believe that a man could grow weary of too much sex, but if it is with a number of people you are emotionally very connected with, it can be very tiring. Just the emotional strain is overwhelming. I think I was also at this point, a bit freaked out by the way things had developed, and I thought that I may have completely screwed myself in ever having a relationship with Jill. I was quite sure she was not going to be pleased at the idea of me sleeping with Tuyen, Ellen and Suzan. Add Kelly and now maybe Meg to the list and I felt rather decidedly like a slut.

Still another part of me wondered what was so horrible about it. Maybe it wasn't my actions so much as the way society made me feel about it. Being a product of my society, I was feeling awfully conflicted about my sexual activity of late.

I pulled up in front of Meg's place and found a place to park. Walking into the building, I passed a number of young college kids. You ever notice that as you age the age at which you think of people as "kids" becomes older and older? Since when did a 22-year-old college woman become a kid? I guess since I became a 30 something.

I walked up several sets of stairs to Meg's floor. The grad student housing was really more like a nice apartment building than a dorm. I found myself nervous and agitated as I walked toward Meg's door, fighting with my clothing and smoothing my hair. Then I felt this wave of support and calming fill me. I stopped dead in my tracks in the hall. Through my bond with Ellen and Suzan was trickling a strong feeling of support and reassurance. I shook my head in amazement. They must have felt my agitation as I came here, and now they were giving me their support. I lowered my shield and sent a strong pulse of thankfulness, and happiness back down that thin line to them. I felt a thin trickle of humor back from them before it faded back to the more normal background level of connection. They must have other things to pay attention too.

I walked the remaining distance to Meg's door, took a deep breath and knocked. You always hear these silly clichés in stories or books about women being the vision of loveliness, or an aspect of desire come to life, and they always come across as cheesy as hell. Still, one of those types of sayings would apply here.

When she had come to the antique shop the other day, she looked very nice. She really was a tiny woman, both in height and in frame. I think I have already mentioned that I preferred a woman with a little more curve and softness, like Jill, but she was still gorgeous.

She wore a grey dress, not nice enough to be formal, but like one of those dresses from a $300 dress store on the mall. I am no fashion designer, but let me try to describe it to you. It was like a sun dress, but more fitted to her small frame. It went down to the top of her knee, and showed off her pale but beautiful legs. It hugged her hips and narrow waste before swooping over her breasts.

Her breasts were large for her frame, but nothing like Kelly's or Susan's monsters. Still, on her they looked larger then they were, and very shapely. The neck line of her dress gave just a hint of cleavage before the straps swept back over her small shoulders and around her graceful neck. As she saw me, she smiled and stepped out to give me a hug. I could feel her shake slightly at the contact.

"Hey Mike. I'm glad you could make it," she said quietly as she stepped back from me.

"Hey, miss the company of a beautiful woman, not likely," I said smiling as she held the door open for me.

The small apartment was conservatively furnished. I imagined most of the furnishings probably came with the place, but it still had a definite feminine feel to it. She had set the atmosphere in the place for the evening. Candles burned from all sides of the small place, and the dinning table which sat between the small kitchen and the sitting area glittered with crystal and candlelight.

"Wow Meg. Your place looks great. It looks like you've been here for years not months." She fidgeted as she smiled at the compliment.

"Thanks, I think some of that is my mother's influence. She stayed with me for a few days after...well she has always had a way of making a place feel homey. I need to check on dinner. I'll be right back." As she walked away, I could see an almost imperceptible shake of her head, as if she was chastising herself.

I sat on her comfy couch, and pulled her note to me. The amount of anxiety in her was startling. She was at the moment feeling a large degree of self contempt for what she felt was her miss handling of my arrival. What was causing this girl so much consternation? I reached out and tried to still her fears, to let calm radiate through her. I am afraid it was a losing battle. She was so full of worries and fears that I felt like I was playing missile command. As soon as one anxiety was stilled, two more popped up in their place.

Meg came back in carrying a bottle and two wine glasses. I smiled at her as she hurried over to where I sat. She looked stressed, and I did my best to calm her mind.

"I thought you might like a glass of wine while I finish getting dinner ready. It will only be another 10 minutes," she said haltingly.

"That would be nice, thanks Meg."

She set the glasses on the coffee table and proceeded to wrestle the cork out of the bottle. It looked like she had removed it earlier, and had pushed it back in enough to keep until she served it, as she was struggling to pull the protruding cork with her small fingers. I could feel the embarrassment rising in her mind, and I marveled that she was so worried about something so little. This was going to take extreme measures I thought.

The cork came out suddenly, and Meg lost control of the bottle from the force she had been applying. The bottle spun forward discharging a large stream of red wine across me, the couch and finally her shoes and the carpet.

I could feel the wine running down my face and I licked a few drops as they ran over my lips. It was a nice Merlot. Meg looked absolutely stunned. She stared at me like an animal that had just been caught in the lights of an oncoming tractor trailer, and I thought for a moment she was going to burst into tears. Then, almost against my will I laughed.

It was just a chuckle at first, but the more I thought about the whole situation the more it struck me as absurdly funny. A grin spread on my face and I began to laugh in earnest. Meg watched me with a blank expression for a moment before the corner of her mouth slowly crawled up in a half smile. Then she raised her wine-covered hand to her mouth and giggled. It left red streaks on her cheek and I laughed even harder.

In seconds we were both laughing like two kids in the back of their parent's car, while their parents tried in vein to figure out what the hell was so funny. To be honest, I think for both of us it was just a tension release. I reached up and grabbed her hand and pulled her down next to me on the couch. We continued to laugh and then giggle for several minutes. When at last the fit passed I could feel an immense sense of calm in her mind as we sat gasping looking at each other.

What happened next I cannot honestly take credit for any great insight. Looking back, I can see that she was terribly anxious about the evening in general, and if what Ellen said was correct her plans included sex. All the tension was gone for the moment, and I would love to claim I acted as I did to forestall her anxiety returning. In reality, I had a beautiful wine-covered girl only a foot away who was grinning at me like a kid. What else could I do but kiss her.

I leaned over and kissed her quickly and gently. It was one of those spontaneous kisses where your heart and body act before your mind has a chance to get in the way. I felt her surprise both in her soft lips, and in her mind. It only lasted a second or two, but when I pulled back I held my face 6 inches from hers, and looked into her pretty eyes. Her smile was gone, and she was looking at me very intently.

I felt the passion flare in her mind in the same instant she leaned forward and kissed me back. Her kiss; however, was not a playful kiss, it was filled with passion and need. It was a driven kiss. I can't fully explain it, but I could tell that there was a great deal of emotion behind that kiss that had nothing to do with attraction or lust.

I held this slight girl on her wine-soaked couch and kissed her for the next few minutes. Her scent mixed with the wine, and the taste of her lips was quite wonderful. I just let myself float at the surface of her mind as we kissed, and feel her emotions passing by. To say she was distracted, turned on, and apprehensive all at the same time does not begin to scratch the surface of her emotions.

At that moment, the smoke alarm in the kitchen went off. Meg leaped up and ran for the kitchen with me hot on her heels. She turned the corner too fast and nearly went down only catching herself on the counter. In the kitchen, we found smoke and flames leaping from a frying pan on the stove.

Meg ran to the sink, grabbed the sink sprayer and proceeded to drench the conflagration. I being worried that it was a grease fire was trying to put the lid on the pan when the water hit me and the fire. Lucky we were both extinguished successfully.

I stood dripping wet, standing in a puddle of water in my wine stained shirt, looking at Meg who was now holding the sprayer limply in her hand as she looked at me with utter shock on her face. I was tempted to burst into laughter again, but I still had a light hold on Meg's mind and I felt the tears a few seconds before they began to fall.

I sloshed my way over to her, took her in my arms and held her. She clung to me for all she was worth and just cried. Time passed and her crying slowed and then stopped. I felt her mind still, and I pushed it away from me. I just felt that this time I needed to just muddle through this the old fashion way. Meg giggled.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"You're soaking wet. I feel like I have been hugging a wet sponge," she said with a giggle.

"Well you were the hose operator you know," I said with my own chuckle.

Meg pulled back from me and her face was a mess. All her makeup was smeared and her eyes and nose were red and puffy. She must have seen my face as she started to raise a hand to her face.

"I must look wonderful."

"Yes you do, though you do look like a band of circus entertainers attacked you with makeup and a fire hose," I said smiling. She rolled her eyes at me and excused herself to go to the bathroom.

I found a mop, and cleaned up the water, dumped the remains of dinner down the disposal, and had the dishes running in the dishwasher before Meg came back in looking sheepish in a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt with a freshly scrubbed face.

"Wow. Mike you didn't have to clean up this mess."

"Course I did, now we can go out to eat," I said with a smile

"You still want to have dinner?" she asked with a grimace.

"Of course. Though we will have to stop by my place so I can change, these clothes seem to be a bit...ummm soggy."

"And stained," she said with a half grin.

I burst into a full laugh at that. Meg joined in. After that she seemed to relax and settle. We headed out 15 minutes later and over to my place. I found another of my new outfits while Meg waited in the car. I didn't want to have to explain the state of my apartment to her given how the evening had gone so far.

Ten minutes later I was back in my truck, and we were driving through Boulder. We debated for a few minutes on where to eat before we decided on Matam Fez. Now, if you have never been to eat there, it is worth describing.

Matam Fez is a Moroccan food restaurant. You enter through a small hallway that opens into a large coat room with racks and racks for shoes. The air is full of the smell of cinnamon and cloves, and the soft sounds of Moroccan music drifts through hidden speakers.

You remove your shoes to feel the very thick and soft carpet. As you enter the dining area the walls and ceilings are hung with tapestries that drape down giving the place a soft welcoming feeling. Tables are lined around the walls, and are low built for you sit on the floor amid piles of cushions.

Dinner is always a 5-course meal of which you only choose your main course, and your drinks. After you are settled, and have ordered, your wait person brings you a full sized towel to place over your left shoulder, for all the food in this restaurant you eat with your hands.

You then place your hands over a silver bowl and hot lemon water is poured over your hands to cleanse them. You dry yourself on your towel, and keep it on your shoulder to be used as a giant napkin throughout the sumptuous meal.

By the time we had finished with all these rituals, and had started on our hot lamb soup Meg seemed quite relaxed and happy. She looked quite at home sitting cross legged on the floor with the cushions around her. The hot soup both warmed us and lifted our spirits.

The courses of the meal ran by slowly and sumptuously, each course filling both our stomachs, and calming and raising our spirits. We ate cold dishes of couscous, and spiced carrot relish. A hot pie like concoction of Philo dough, lamb, powdered sugar and egg that caused us both to burn our fingers as we ate the delicious concoction before it was fully cooled. By the time we had finished eating and I had paid the check it was after ten, and we decided to walk the few blocks up to the mall, look through the shop windows and get a cup of coffee.

The fall weather had turned unusually cold this night, and as we walked west on Pearl street little bits of popcorn snow began to fall, creating artful patterns in each of the street lights. Meg held my arm, and seemed again so small next to me, but now after many hours of her company I knew her physical stature did not at all reflect the size of the personality contained within this nice woman.

The mall was not overly busy, a few strollers out window shopping, and enjoying the coffee shops, restaurants, and bars that were still open. We strolled through the trees and benches on the large cobblestone walkway.

I had been keeping my curtain cracked open a bit, to be able to feel the notes of those around me as we walked, and from time to time I touched on just the surface thoughts of Meg's mind. She had relaxed and enjoyed herself more as the evening wore on, but there was still tension and uncertainty as well.

It was about a block away from the Grind that I felt it. Wendy's note was blazing out in a rage of emotion and panic. The feeling was very similar to what I had felt from Meg that night in the club, and it chilled me to the bone.

"Meg, will you wait here for a moment please?" I asked, my panic already rising.

"Why, what's wrong?"

"I don't have time to explain right now, but I will, just trust me okay. I have a bad feeling, and I need to check on something at the shop really quick. It should only take a minute. Okay?"

Meg looked started and confused. "Okay Mike, I'll wait on this bench over here."

I nodded and turned and jogged through the ally between two stores nearby. As soon as I was out of sight I began to run. If someone was hurting Wendy, they were going to wish they had never been born.

I turned the corner and headed up the back ally behind the shops toward the grind. Wendy's was up ahead in the alley, and I could feel her emotions were raging and fearful. I wanted to pull her note to me but I would have to open my curtain more to do so.

I slid around a parked car, my shoes slapping on the pavement slicked with the melting snow, and skidded to a stop as I saw two figures next to a dumpster about 50 feet ahead of me. One was large, and seemed to be struggling with the smaller. The light was poor as I walked toward them.

"Hey, let her go right now," I shouted.

The larger figure looked up and I could have sworn I saw the flash of white teeth as he smiled. He released Kelly and she tore herself free backing away from the man. It was then that all hell broke loose. They hit me from three sides at once. The two hiding in the shadows off to the sides I blocked mostly with my nearly closed curtain, but the man in front of me hit me through the gap in my defenses. He had hit me with pain. Not physical pain, but pure emotional pain. Imagine all the terrible things that had ever happened to you in your life that caused you great grief, and then imagine feeling all those things at once.

I crumpled to the wet greasy pavement like a rag doll. My last conscious effort was to pull my curtain closed and huddle in my mind even as I huddled in my body. The two from the shadows continued to batter at my defenses, even as I heard Wendy's voice as if from a great distance.

"Mike, are you okay? Mike! Let go of me you...."

I heard her voice stop abruptly and managed to look up to see her sitting on the ground holding a bleeding nose, the leader who had hit me towering over her, fists still balled. I wanted to act, to fight back, but in that crushing despair it took every ounce of me just to not let go of my curtain and let it fly to pieces.

The leader turned his attention on me, and I felt the balls of his thought begin to pound into me over and over. I was lost, I could feel that I couldn't hold my defenses up for long, and worse I didn't have the will to try.

I was losing, and worse than that I didn't care. I realized how powerful an emotion despair is, but it was an abstract thought, viewed from beneath the waters of crushing pain. Some part of me knew that if I could hold out the effects would wear off, but that could take minutes and I probably didn't have that kind of time.

Finally, the fabric tore, and the note of one of the attackers slammed into me. This was helplessness, absolute helplessness. Two more slammed into me from the others in quick succession then, one of submission, and one that simply paralyzed me. I sat their looking up at the leader and Wendy's sobbing form as the two men walked from the shadows to join him. He was smiling now.