The Veil

Gabe reminded me of when someone asked me why I liked horror movies so much. I told them I thought that horror movies made people feel more, that the content was often a metaphor for something deeper than just zombies or Casper or Jason Voorhees, and that other genres of film couldn't do metaphor in quite the same way. There is also a strange cathartic release in focusing on make-believe monsters rather than the very real monsters in real life. And then I told them something I heard once: we like to be scared because it makes us feel more alive.

The parts of us that are dulled, jaded and stilted are stripped away, leaving the raw, the visceral and the truly living.

He watched me like a predator, his intent eyes roaming over my body like a lion sizing up a particularly delicious form of prey, like a fire ready to consume. He terrified me. I felt like I was on the precipice of something, but I couldn't figure out what it could be. I'd never felt like this before in any other nascent relationship. This felt dangerous, forbidden somehow, though there was nothing bad about it that I could identify. 

Yes, he terrified me, but fuck, I felt alive. I hadn't felt this alive since Mom passed away. Maybe since before. I knew I'd do whatever he suggested, whatever he wanted.

Neither of us spoke as he once again moved close until his shoes pressed against my own and our breath mingled together. He settled on top of me again, pushing and pushing until I was once again surrounded my only the couch and his body. His hand floated between us for a moment until it skimmed down my side, finding a resting place on my hip. His eyes never left my own, and though I was tempted to look away, I wasn't strong enough. I met his stare and waited.

A car honked in the distance. A neighbor began to play their piano. The couch's  material creaked under our shifting weight, and I could hear a drip from the kitchen sink's faucet. This moment would never exist again, this liminal barrier between strangers and lovers. Gabe breathed heavily against my mouth, swaying back and forth until he finally settled on forth. Then he kissed me, soft lips pressed against my own and a welcoming shock of tongue against my own. His hand tightened on my hip. Our kisses were slow at first. Almost lazy. All soft lips and warm tongue and deep breaths. He kept leaning into me and I took it. His weight against mine was most welcome.

On a deep breath, Gabe pulled away. "The bedroom," he said, not as an order or suggestion, but as an inevitable destination.

There must have been steps between where we were and his bed, but I couldn't remember them. A curious part of me wanted to look around, to explore his bedroom, but there would be time later. Gabe methodically, almost clinically, removed my clothing. My nipples were so hard they hurt, and they sharpened further in the cool air of his bedroom. The windows were open, and the wind whipped the dark curtains back and forth. He gave a gentle shove and then I was on the mattress.

He undressed himself more slowly than he'd undressed me. He unbuttoned his shirt, looking up at me after each button's release. Then he pulled his shirt away, leaving his body open for my inspection. I nearly gasped. He was covered in large, angry scars. 

"What happened to you?" I asked, leaning up to run fingers against one that ran down his right side.

He pushed me back down to the bed and stood back up, silently removing his pants and boxers. Afterwards, he stood at the bottom of the bed, his eyes running up and down my body. He was hard and ready for me, obviously, and it took my breath away. Normally this was a moment I would feel shy and nervous, but not now. Now I looked at him and just felt want. Need.

"Take me," I said, like some moronic heroine in a romance novel. But I wanted it that way. I wanted to be taken. I wanted to be destroyed, and I knew he was the one to do it.

Gabe prowled around the bed, cataloguing every detail of my naked body with his eyes. He looked at me like I was already his. His property.

He finally climbed on top of me, his cock skimming my thigh. He pressed his lips against mine and guided his cock into me until we were both moaning against each other's mouths.

He slowed his thrusts to kiss me. He ran his tongue over my own, over my mouth. "Too late now, Cat," he panted against my wet lips.

He shoved himself deeper inside. I let out a deliciously wounded noise I'd never heard myself make before and clutched the sheets harder. "Too... too late for what?"

He pulled back to meet my eyes. His next thrust was more brutal than the rest. It hurt, but I loved it. I moved my hands to his ass and held him close.

He exhaled and smiled. "To run."

I was confused for a second, but then his thrusts picked up and his strokes hit just right. I was a mindless body, a vessel for fucking, and his words were quickly forgotten. His hand was suddenly between us and he pushed his finger into my clit, rubbing hard circles that had me quickly shaking in a punishing orgasm. 

"Yessss," Gabe hissed when he felt me tightening around him. "Take me in. Take me. This is what you're meant for, Cat."

I laid there and took him, like he wanted. I gasped as I felt myself approaching another orgasm. He looked into my eyes and pinched my nipple.

"You're perfect," he told me. "I knew it when I first saw you. Perfect, perfect, perfect."

"Harder," I begged, scratching my nails down his back until I was sure I broke the skin. I exploded, this orgasm even longer and more violent than the first. We both cried out and held onto each other.

"How long I've waited," he said against my neck.

He fucked me harder with rough thrusts, pushing his cock into the resistance of my contracting body until he released with one long moan. He kept thrusting until I felt the mess on my thighs. 

Then there was nothing but the sound of our harsh breathing and the feel of our sweat quickly cooling in the cold room. Gabe kissed me and then pulled out to collapse beside me. 

"It's done now," he said.

I giggled, too fucked out to even ask what he meant. I assumed he meant us fucking, but I couldn't bring myself to get too curious. He could have told me the meaning of life and I wouldn't have cared.

"I've waited lifetimes," he whispered. "No backing out now. Too late for you."

My heavy eyelids tried to lift. I was so comfortable, so warm, so sleepy. And yet my brain wanted me to pay attention. To process his words.

"Go to sleep, Cat." He ran a warm hand down my side and gave my shoulder a peck. 

I wanted to but there was something I needed to do. Something I needed to...

"Sleep," he said. "Sleep beside me always." I wanted to. Whatever I needed to do could wait until tomorrow.

And so I closed my eyes and slept.

________

I woke the next morning, sore and somehow still so tired. I couldn't remember my dreams, but I knew I dreamt of the ouija board. I decided I didn't want to think about that yet, or ever, so I looked over at Gabe's still sleeping body and wondered. Worried. Was this a one night stand?

I didn't do casual relationships or one night stands. They weren't my thing, though sometimes I wished they were. Sometimes I had enough of pleasuring myself, of cumming and then coming down to find myself alone and empty. Every time I entertained going out and finding someone, though, I reminded myself it just wasn't for me. I was lonelier than I had ever been before, and maybe I should have taken it more slowly with Gabe.

It was the roughest sex I'd ever had, and I had once dated a guy who fancied himself to be a bit of a "dominant" in the bedroom. Gabe hadn't spanked me, or bit me, or called me names, but he had fucked me so hard that I winced just shifting slightly in the bed.

I thought over some of the things I remembered him saying, like he'd been waiting for me, that he wanted me to sleep with him forever. Guys could say crazy stuff during sex, but I had the impression he meant all of it. I relaxed a little. 

"Want breakfast?"

I jumped a little and looked at Gabe. He'd been watching me.

He grinned and got up. "I'll make you something to eat." He threw some clothes on and tossed me a long shirt. 

He made us eggs and bacon, and his coffee was better than any coffee I'd had in a long time. He watched me eat, occasionally touching me. It felt like a good sign he wasn't rushing me out. 

"Stop worrying," he said suddenly. "I can tell you're freaking out."

"I'm not freaking out," I protested. "I'm just... I don't normally sleep with guys on the first date."

He was clearly amused. "Cat, I know. But we have something different here, don't we?" 

I grinned like an idiot and he kissed my cheek. We cleared up breakfast and he asked if I wanted to come meet Sally. He thought she would definitely be able to connect with Mom, and maybe she would have some idea about what happened with the ouija board. I had to go home and do a little work at some point, but he promised it would be fast and I didn't want to leave him yet. I didn't want to leave this little bubble I'd stumbled into.

I found my clothes in his bedroom and dressed slowly, thinking over how my life seemed to be getting better. How I wished I could call Mom and tell her about Gabe!  It made me sad Mom wouldn't be able to meet him, to know I finally met a good guy, but I quickly chased that thought away. She wouldn't want me to be sad over this.

"What are you thinking about so deeply?" 

Gabe was leaning against the door, watching me with a soft smile.

"My mom," I said, stepping into my shoes. "She'd love you. I wish you two could have met."

His smile grew. "That's sweet."

"It makes me so mad sometimes. And unbelievably sad."

He hugged me. "I know. Me too. I wish every day that brain cancer hadn't taken Mom. She would have loved you, too."

I suddenly felt very cold. His words ran through my head like pinballs slapping the sides of a pinball machine. I pulled back slowly and stared at him. "You said your mom died of breast cancer. Like mine."

He stared back at me and then looked confused. "She did."

"You just said brain cancer."

He smiled and shook his head. "No, I said breast."

"But... but you didn't."

He let out a laugh and stepped away from me. "I really doubt I said "brain", but if I somehow messed it up, I meant breast. I'm not my sharpest self this morning."

He moved around his room, straightening things up, grabbing his cell phone and wallet while he did so. I watched him numbly.

You didn't forget things like that. You didn't "mess up" how your mother died. I would never have accidentally said "brain" instead of "breast".

He took my hand without meeting my eyes and guided me out of the apartment. The sun was shining, bright but weak. The sidewalk was crowded, and people bumped into and off of me without me hardly feeling it.

Brain cancer. 

He said it. I knew he had. I knew it like I knew something was brewing, something that I didn't think I had any control over. Something I was beginning to worry he was involved with.

He walked us up to an old apartment building and stopped to look down at me. "Are you ready?"

No. I wanted to run home and hide under the covers, but my apartment was haunted. I was haunted.

He hugged me and he felt so warm, so strong, so good.

So, he said brain. Or maybe he said breast. It didn't really matter, I decided, and pulled back to say, "Yes."

________

The apartment building smelled like cinnamon and old coffee. The walls were a stained yellow, and the elevator was out of service. The lights were all in various late stages of fading, and the one above Sally's apartment flickered threateningly. 

"Don't be put off by the surroundings," Gabe whispered. "It's much nicer inside."

"Whatever you say," I whispered back and Gabe grinned. 

He knocked on the door and a beautiful middle-aged woman opened it almost immediately. Her skin was tanned and her eyes were olive green. A deep purple dress was draped over her thin and graceful body. She looked mystical to me, perhaps just as a medium should. "Gabriel," she said in a breathy voice. "I was expecting you."

I got the impression that she didn't care for him. It hadn't seemed like Elaine did, either. I wondered about his connection with them, and if they didn't like him, why they worked for him.

"I figured you would be. I wish you had let me know you weren't going to make it yesterday instead of sending Elaine."

Sally's penetrating eyes scanned my face. "Elaine had a vision and I was busy."

"Well, be that as it may, you promised you'd come. She scared the hell out of Cat."

Her eyes moved back to Gabe. "Cat?"

"This is Cat," Gabe said with a smile.

Green eyes slid once again in my direction. "Cat? Cat is an animal. I will call you Catherine," Sally declared. "I detest nicknames."

She welcomed us in and Gabe was right: the apartment was very nice, and very purple. She poured us red wine without asking, in spite of the early hour. I sat on her plushy purple couch and sipped a little for strength. 

"So, you wish to contact your mother," she began, sitting in the chair beside the couch. "Elaine didn't tell me much about yesterday. What did she say to you? If your mother feels her message was delivered, she might not return today."

I explained the best I could with a slightly shaky voice. I included the night before's excitement with the ouija board, too. Sally just stared at me, soaking in every word with an intent expression. When I was finished, she clapped her hands once. 

"We shall try." She shook her head at Gabe. "And a ouija board? Really? You should know better than that."

He only smiled.

"Give me your hand," she ordered. 

Her hand was bony and freezing. She stroked, inspected and poked at the lines of my palm. Then her eyes became glassy and rolled back into her head. Startled, I looked to Gabe. He wasn't looking at me; his eyes were focused on Sally. I returned my attention to her and tried not to let my fear get to me. I needed to do this, I reminded myself. I needed closure. I needed to understand. Still, discomfort grew in my stomach.

She said a few words under her breath, something about needing to contact my mother. She shut her eyes and whimpered. Then her eyes shot open and focused on me.

"You know everything you need to know." Her eyes became distant. "She doesn't understand why you're not listening."

I swallowed and tried to speak, but the disappointment was choking me. Gabe rubbed my shoulder. It took me a few tries, but I managed, "Is that all?"

Sally dropped my hand and sat back. "What else is there?"

"No... no other message? No more information about whatever is haunting my apartment?"

"What message were you looking for?" Sally asked kindly. "A message of love? Forgive me, but she doesn't seem the type to be sentimental. She was very direct with me just now and didn't linger. Sometimes you need to let the dead rest." 

My heart sank. I wasn't sure what I had been expecting, but it hadn't been this. It was true my mother had never been overly sentimental, and she rarely told me she loved me, but couldn't she sense I needed that now? Couldn't she feel that I desperately needed her more than ever before.

Sally peered into her empty wineglass and pointed at Gabe. "There is more wine on my counter. Open it for us, will you."

He scoffed but stood and disappeared into the kitchen. I turned to say something to Sally, but she was already leaning toward me, fear all over her face.

"What are you doing with him?" she whispered urgently. 

The earlier stirrings of discomfort grew and I became even more alarmed than before. "What?"

"Don't you understand? Can't you see? Didn't Elaine warn you?"

"I don't understand, no. Can't you--"

"Shut up," she hissed. "How did you meet him?" When I hesitated, one of her hands reached out to grab my wrist. "How?!"

"Through my brother," I breathed.

"Oh, no." She pulled her hand back to rub at her eyes. A thud came from the kitchen and she dropped her hand to look at me. "You need to--"

"Sally, you're not trying to scare Cat, too, are you? Elaine did a thorough enough job yesterday."

We both turned to Gabe. 

"Of course not," Sally said in a tight voice.

He smiled and poured wine into our glasses. "Were you trying to warn her off of me? Sally thinks I'm a bad boy, Cat." 

"I know you're a bad boy," she said, but her tone was lighter. I looked at her and she was smiling. Her expression was still pinched, though.  "And yes, I was trying to warn her that you like to break hearts. Don't forget I know your father."

Confused, I took my glass from Gabe and tried not to shake. Was that really all that was? It had seemed far more serious than a woman looking out for another woman.

"Well, I was made in his image, after all."

She laughed but it didn't sound genuine. "What else can I do for the two of you? I sense we're not finished here."

"Your senses are always right," Gabe said. He took my hand. "I want Cat to see her mother for herself. I think it would make her feel better. I think you should try to breach the veil. Or, we should. I can help."

Sally's smile faded. She only stared.

"I understand your hesitance," he continued, "but I have faith in your abilities and Cat is important to me. I want her to be able to see her mother, one last time."

"You can do that?" I gasped.

"No," Sally said. "I can't."

"You can," he insisted. "I know you can. Or you can try."

She stared at him some more like he was some unearthly being she couldn't make sense of. "I have never heard of anyone successfully breaching the veil."

"That's not true. People have before."

"I said 'successfully'." She turned to me. "I know you miss your mother but this is the natural order of things. Parents die, we go on with our lives and get older and eventually pass away, too. Grief can be a good thing, don't you see? What Gabriel is proposing is unnatural. Dangerous."

Gabe touched my arm. "Do you want to try?"

Did I? I thought of my nightmares, of trying to make sense of the world since Mom's death. I thought of all the unsure, lonely hours ahead of me. I thought of how much I detested the unknown.

"Will she speak to me? If we make contact? I'll see her?"

"Yes."

Sally remained silent.

"Then yes, I want to try."

Gabe smiled at me. Sally said something under her breath, something that might have been a prayer.

We arranged to meet several days later at Gabe's shop. Sally was quiet as we made our plans, merely nodding at the details when we asked for confirmation she accepted them. 

Before leaving the apartment, she grabbed my wrist and looked over her shoulder. Then her eyes met mine, filled with dread. "Are you sure about this? It's unnatural," she whispered.

"Isn't that what you normally deal with? The supernatural?" I asked in a normal voice.

She threw another look of fear behind us and then walked out.

________

The days following went by slowly. There was still a presence in my apartment, but it was calmer now. My name being called would wake me in the middle of the night, but there were no more overt attempts to unsettle me. I was almost comforted by it all now, thinking it was Mom. 

I worked, I napped, I read. Read everything I could about what they'd referred to as "breaching the veil". Everything I found warned against it, stressing that such dark and forbidden power could only be evil and dangerous. I ignored the warnings, unfortunately; my mind was made up. I read accounts of people who claimed to have done it, and shivered as I read about the catharsis they felt temporarily connecting with their loved ones. Mom would come, I knew she would, and finally we would both be at peace.