Soul

Author's note: This chapter is NOT a stand-alone...The story starts here.

Have some sympathy, and some taste.

The text itself isn’t going to cause me any trouble, but it does set things in motion. I know what is about to happen, and I have a pretty good guess of how it will end.

There is nothing I need to do now, and no one I need to contact. I swirl the brandy in my glass. The mostly flat wide bottom and the gradually curved sides provide my hand a comfortable way to gently warm the liquid, and the sides keep it on the lower reaches of the glass as it swirls, releasing its aroma. Its essence. The taste is not harsh like that of even the best whiskies. It is mellow. The alcohol is only 80 proof. But I don’t drink it to get drunk. Why some seek a high proof is beyond me.

The distilled wine slides over my tongue and down my throat without complaint. The warmth of it does still my previously uneasy aspect. Things are settling. Not as one might wish, but rather as it needs to be.

Accepting reality, and accommodating the results, allows for both compassion and understanding.

I finish a chapter before deciding it is time to sleep.

I am up and about at four in the morning. That is early enough the watch Erlyn slip out of the bedroom, clothed and make her way to the front door. She does not see me. She does not know I have removed the security measures that would have inhibited her from leaving. She makes her way out, and is gone.

I am still on my first mug of coffee. The sun has yet to rise.

I am on my second cup when Amelae appears from the bedroom. She looks a bit panicky. She is looking around and in a moment of surprise sees me rather than the girl for whom she was searching.

Sit down. You can stop your search. Erlyn is gone.

You allow this?

I do not force anyone to stay. Each of you is fully informed of the consequences of your choices. Each of you then chooses. It is called Free Will. Each of you has that. But Free Will does not make the consequences plastic to your desires. Consequences are real and often immutable. … We all operate in this world in that manner. Erlyn was fully informed on the matter. She, never-the-less, chose a path that will probably see her killed. That she is hoping that she will live, and that she will see her brother again, is driving her in spite of what she has been told. She just doesn’t ‘believe.’ She is sure that all I have done are tricks and once she is gone, she can control the outcome.

She will die?

Yes, I think she will.

So we chose the wrong one! We killed Chona for no reason!

It is not clear how long Chona might have lived. Death in her line of work is more than an occupational hazard.

I know this is weird, but I need to feel you inside me. I feel empty, scared.

I understand and I am more than willing to take you, but you have not thought about Mirafe.

Why? She sleeps.

And when she wakes? You are not to be found. I am not to be found. Erlyn is not to be found? Erlyn’s clothing is gone. What does she think? How does she feel? What will she do?

Oh. I not think. What we do?

Wake Mirafe. Be close to her and tell her what has happen. Then if you still want, I will be here in the house.

Amelae returns to her bedroom. I retrieve my tablet. I can see enough from that for now. Erlyn has no cellphone. She can text no one. Her mother is a different story. She can and is texting. What she does not know, cannot know, is that she is texting the very people who want her and Dany dead. By the time she and they meet up, Erlyn will be with her. I am not all knowing. Maybe the family survives this, but if I was a bookmaker, the odds would be heavily against that outcome. I would have better odds of picking the winners of a superfecta¹, by throwing darts at a board while blindfolded.

I can see what starts as a trickle of text messages, becomes a volley of confirmations in regards to a suggested plan. And then the messages are silent. What will likely occur has been agreed to by the actors. All now go about their lives without further comment.

For me, there is the need to add another girl, here. She, who will be the third. I have four possible candidates. It is time to look into each one. I do not need another Erlyn.

An hour later, I know I have two possible candidates and two I just don’t know enough about. For those, I need more information and it is not clear that the girls will be able to enlarge on what I have now. Still there are the two and I really only need to add one more. And, maybe I really don’t need to add any more at all. I suspect Mirafe will now not be a concern for me. Possibly the only reason to add a third, is because I told the girls I would and to change my mind now might suggest I was fallible. That is something I ought to avoid at the moment.

I concentrate on the two possible ones and am still digging when the girls tap my shoulder.

Yes? It looks like they have both been crying.

Amelae inquires, Any news?

About Erlyn?

Yes, Master.

No, and I don’t expect any until this afternoon.

What then?

Then there will be news. I haven’t had any breakfast yet, have you girls eaten?

No, Master.

OK, let’s have a bite.

After, may we be with you? Will you fill us? We both need this.

I am not sure how I fill both of you, but yes, after we eat, we will see how this works.

Do I enjoy sex? Sure. Yes. Am I a satyr? No.

In truth I didn’t select these girls to be a harem as much as to see what it might take to get them to see that all they believe is pure bunk. At each step along the way, I have been over playing the thing, while trying to stay in character. Still, rather than getting them to slowly perceive the craziness of such beliefs, it appears that I have become a deity.

I initially hoped that I could get three girls to grasp the craziness of such beliefs. I hoped they might be my assistants in defrocking the charlatans. That will not happen.

I have progressively allowed them to see that I am the one setting the table. That they smell the incense because there is a fan. I thought by the third time they saw a contract disappear, that they would have figured out I was using flash paper.

In the beginning I didn’t want to walk away from the role and hid some of that because I was afraid of the angry backlash. Now? Now I am afraid of what I will do to their psyches. These two seem to be convinced that I am not really human. Telling them I am, will have no impact. Them seeing me starting the fan or setting the food out doesn’t seem to matter. They will not believe that I am not a real deity.

So what am I to do with these girls now? Am I to found a new religion?

I read once that the problem with satire is that it actually doesn’t work for those you are skewering. They think the satire is truth. Satire only plays to the folks who are already inclined to make fun of that which is being satirized. It happened to me as a student journalist. I wrote a broadly over the top piece. What happened? I won an award from the very folks I was poking fun at. It was not a small award. It was a national award.

Maybe I should have remembered that before I started all this. But my concern is a little too late. I had better eat a bunch of Durian. They say it is an aphrodisiac. It looks like I am going to need all the help I can get. I sneak a DriveMax pill when I go to the bathroom.

Our breakfast is a quiet and sober repast. The girls are thinking about Erlyn. I am really not. I am trying to sort out who the next girl will be. Sure, I am sad for Erlyn, but she is fully responsible for each of the three deaths she will cause today. No one in the world will be more to blame than she is. Even the guys who kill her are not as much to blame, at least for the potential loss of her life as she is. And as to the loss of her mother’s life, she too is the proximate cause of that already. Even if that death was not to happen today, it was going to happen because of her choices. I can feel sympathy. But I feel not a scintilla of responsibility. And so my mind is on two other girls. Ones I have never met.

As the meal ends, Amelae receives a text. Her mother needs her. They need to go back to the hospital. Her mother is having an adverse reaction to a drug that was prescribed at the last visit to the hospital. Her uncle still has money for additional meds. Nothing is needed in that regard. I tell Amelae that she is to call me before any trip to the cashier. She simply doesn’t put two and two together. She simply acknowledges that she will do it.

Twenty minutes later Amelae is gone and I am alone with Mirafe. It wasn’t that long ago that Mirafe was really pissed with me for jamming her up regarding the family taxes. Now?

Master will you lie down with me?

I take Mirafe to her bedroom, disrobe and join her under the sheet. I bring her to me, just to hold her and comfort her. She is enjoying it, but snakes her hand down to my penis. I am hard but not rigid. She strokes me, bringing forth desire and need.

I slide into her, eliciting sighs of pleasure and contentment. We have no clock on us and no appointments we need to keep. I am in no hurry. Mirafe needs to feel a connection. That is what I am providing. It is a physical connection. It is a meaningful connection. There is a reality to it. It doesn’t require an act of faith.

This is the first time we actually make love in a normal fashion. It is not a ceremony. There is no music or incense. There are no clamps. It is just the two of us, on a mattress, fucking away, if not like rabbits, then at least like lovers.

I am not trying to ‘get her off.’ I am trying to ‘be with her.’ To give her a sense of safety, before a girl, who slept in her bed last night, gets gunned down today.

Mirafe’s arms are around me. She needs to feel me firmly against her small body. Her fingers almost dig into my flesh as she grasps me to her. Small noises escape from her that bear no resemblance to language.

We rut on and on. We burn through the time, taking no notice. But eventually both of us feel a need for completion. I sense it in her, and possibly she in me?

My cum enters her and she seems at peace with that fact. There is no fear of an unwanted pregnancy that so animated her before. We rest in each other’s arms.

Master?

Yes?

Is this want you mean when you say you care for us? There is a giggle that follows. I say nothing. I kiss her forehead.

A few minutes later I tell her I have work to do. I ask her about one of the girls that I am researching. The answers match what I have been seeing. It is time for me to get up and I do, telling her to rest. That is good for my seed if she does. She only smiles and says, Yes Master.

I see to a lunch meal and then check the SMS traffic. I have some catching up to do. All remain alive for the moment. I spend a little time checking some additional aspects of the girl I spoke to Mirafe about. Maybe she will be the one. It looks promising.

I notice some new SMS traffic just as a text comes in to my phone. Amelae has just received the note to take to the cashier.

It doesn’t take more than two minutes to get the money into the correct account and log out. I text back… Just saw the message, please tell your Mother that she has my attention. See you this afternoon?

Twenty minutes later I get her reply. I will be back before four. Everything goes OK. Funny thing today. All OK. I will tell when I get home.

I wonder if I can see who logged into her Mom’s account and when. I log back in. I can see the account access history in the administrative logs. There were four logins to her Mom’s account. The first one was about ten minutes before I got the text. It was the person posting the charge. Then a second access from the cashier’s PC about a minute later. It is three minutes before Amelae texts me that she is about to go to the cashier. Next I see my previous login which is only a minute after the text I received. Finally a four minutes later I see the cashier again.

I can’t wait to hear how Amelae processed what happened today.

My mind shifts to Erlyn. For the first time since I met the girl, I have the sense that she believes that she failed in so many ways. There is no SMS traffic at the moment. All is silent. It is happening… right now.

I leave the screens, and return to Mirafe rejoining her on the bed. I put my arms around her and rest. Mirafe snuggles in.

We eat a late lunch before she excuses herself to watch some of Showtime. I return to my book. Neither of us wants to know what has happened with Erlyn and her family. It is best left alone.

I am still reading and Mirafe is still watching TV when Amelae returns. She is ebullient, plopping down on my lap and giving me a kiss, something I certainly did not expect.

OK, why the happy stuff?

You! You!!! Ha! Why the fools pray to a false God? You are God!

I am not God. That guy is an AssWipe! So what happened?

The Cashier. Master, she see me before they hand me the bill, and decide she will see what I have put into the account. They already posted the bill before they give it to me. She see that I have a charge to pay. She watch me the whole time from then on to see how I make the bill go to zero. But, of course, I not do anything! That is you! When I get to the cashier, she is sneering, and say I have a bill to pay. I say I do not, that it is paid! She call me a liar. She say she has already checked. I say, ‘you check again.’ She do and then she scream. She say, ‘not possible!’ How it done? How I trick them. I say I not trick anyone. I say it is the work of the divine. I say you protect me and my mother because my soul is in your hands. She cross herself. I laugh and say, ‘Ha, that a false God!’ and walk away. Everyone moves away from me. Some kneel down! The doctors who treat my mother say, ‘No more bills. You come and we will take care of you. Just do not get angry with us.’ I say OK.

And that is how religions start. Yup, sure enough, that is no different from when we had Jesus do the water and wine trick. It doesn’t take much. And Amelae? Will they see her as a disciple? How many miracles does it take?

Master, my Mother say she will pray to you, but not know your name. I tell her to pray to the Master. She say OK. From now on, no praying to God. She will pray to our Master. Someone hear us and ask, ‘If I pray to your Master, will I go to heaven?’ I tell him, ‘Master say that there no heaven, and no hell. It just a con. The thing is to be good here. Here is what matters.’ That right, Master? I say right?

You said fine. I don’t think I could have said it any better. I couldn’t, but my life is now in danger. It’s not the drug lords who will kill me. It is the Church. They will need me dead and dead soon, before it becomes too late to stop the results, even if I am dead.

Amelae, it is good news that they will not bill your mother. That means you do not need to go back there. It is a good thing because I am fearful of what the priests will do to you if you return.

Oh! I have not thought of that. OK. I understand. Like Jesus, right?

Yes, exactly.

I do wrong?

No, but we need to be more careful.

Yes, Master. Thank you for not being angry with me for the sin of my pride.

Amelae, there is no sin. I am happy you are proud. It is just that in this case, it might have bad results for us. I am not angry, because there is nothing to be angry about. You obeyed me entirely.

And that gets another hug and two more kisses. There are definite benefits to being a divine.

1 - A type of bet, especially on horse races, in which the bettor must select the first four finishers in exact order.

Chapter 8