The Weeping Thing Ch. 02

When it was over, Margaret draped her body over her lover's. She allowed him to caress the full length of her back, from her shoulders all the way down to her buttocks, which Donald felt compelled to squeeze every so often. They stayed this way, caressing each other, touching, kissing, long after Donald had wilted and fallen out of her.

"We could stay in this place forever, Miss Margo." Donald reminded her, as he quietly played with her hair.

Margaret paused to consider this. "Will we grow old here?"

"I don't know." Donald shrugged. "The nymphs sure haven't. They're as young as they were when they, you know, when they passed away."

Margaret thought of all her achy joints, her frequent doctor appointments, and her constant supply of too-expensive medicine. Was she really going to give all that up?

"What happened to them?" She asked. "How did they die?"

"I've never asked them for the full story." Donald admitted. "I only know bits and pieces of what happened. We should find out."

"Where are they?"

"Oh, they're not too far away. They've been watching us for a while now."

Margaret sat up and glanced around. Sure enough, she saw half a dozen forms standing together nearby and partially hidden by the trees. They were talking and giggling to one another. At once, Margaret felt exposed enough to attempt to cover her breasts with her arms.

"You don't have to be shy here." Donald told her.

Margaret slid away from Donald's middle, as the young woman she knew as Emelina left her companions. Casually, Emelina walked up to them, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be spying on a couple right after they'd made love. In her hands, Emelina held out a soft stretch of gossamer. Margaret recognized this as the same type of garment that Emelina had worn when she'd visited her house in the real world.

"We need to find a couple of more men." Donald spoke up, as Margaret tried to figure out which way to set the wrap on her voluptuous frame. "Otherwise, the seven of you will be wearing the one of me out!"

Emelina giggled, before she leaned forward and blew a quick kiss at Donald. Afterward, she scurried back to join her friends.

"Where we come from, I would be calling you a cad." Margaret said.

"Where we come from, we would be called two very lonely people." Donald corrected her, as he got up on his feet. "Come on, let's see if we can start getting some kind of dinner ready."

"Do we need to eat in this place?" Margaret asked.

"Well, sure." Donald gave her a strongman's pose. "How do you think I maintain this kind of manly build?"

Margaret considered Donald's scrawny frame for a bit. Despite that she tried to suppress it, she ended up giggling anyway.

It was hours later when Old Margaret opened her eyes. She found herself in the dark, lying down in the hallway of her home. Even though she hadn't eaten in perhaps hours, her stomach was still pleasantly full.

Could it all have been a dream? Margaret wondered this to herself, as she got to her feet and ambled over to the living room. After she'd clicked on a light, she discovered that it was half past eight at night. Did Donald really make love to her three separate times? Did she really have some sort of spicy hare stew, with wild onions and potatoes on the side, and who knows what kind of herbs on top? Did she really have a lengthy and amiable conversation with six young ladies who had died well over two hundred years ago?

Margaret noticed that her phone was blinking. She picked it up and saw that she'd gotten several new messages. After scrolling through them, the woman realized that nearly all of them were from Jenny. After a moment's deliberation, she punched in her best friend's number.

"Marge, where have you been?" Jenny asked, as soon as the other end was picked up. "I've been trying to reach you all day! Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm all right." Margaret answered. "I didn't call you earlier because I've been asleep all day. Maybe it's that new medication I'm on or something. What's going on with you?"

"I... I had this terrible dream about you. I dreamt that the ghost of your husband took you away and made you a ghost just like him."

Margaret wondered why Jenny would have been having such a dream, unless Donald or Pan had gone out to her house to mess with the woman's head. But it couldn't have been Donald, could it? He'd been screwing Margaret's brains out for the last few hours, while they had been in that other time and place. And Pan, well, she hadn't seen that guy in a while, ever since the last time he'd pretended he was her deceased husband. Did Pan have designs on her neighbor now?

"I had a dream too, Jenny." Margaret revealed. "Why don't you come over and I'll tell you all about it."

"Are you going to tell me that a demon is pretending to be your husband?"

"How did you know that?"

"Because in my dream, after he took you away he wanted to take me away, too." Jenny revealed. "He didn't look like your husband anymore, Marge. He looked like my old high school sweetheart, the one that died in the car crash a long time ago. You know that's the only man I've ever really loved in my entire life."

Through the receiver, Margaret could hear her friend choking up and sobbing.

"Jenny," She sighed. "If you come over, I'm going to tell you a few things. They might be pretty or they might not, depending on how you look at them. All I'm going to tell you over the phone is that I've got this big decision I need to make. There is a chance you won't be seeing me anymore. Anything past that, you'll have to hear in person, straight from the horse's mouth."

"What are you talking about, Marge? What do you mean, I won't be seeing you anymore?"

Jenny was persistent, but Margaret was twice as stubborn. In the end the only thing Margaret added was: "I promise, I won't let anything bad happen to you while you're here."

After a good amount of discussion, Jenny was persuaded. It was at about quarter past nine when she knocked on the front door. Full of trepidation, Jenny stepped into the house and took a seat on the couch.

Once Margaret had served them both a cup of warm White Tea, she took a seat across from Jenny, and told her everything.