Fade

“It’s cool. You working on something in particular?”

“Yeah…I’m trying to TiVo.”

He laughs. “What, you mean pause, rewind—that sort of thing?”

“Exactly.”

“That’ll be interesting. I hope you pull it off. You don’t want to take me with you, do you?”

“Not this time. I need all the concentration I can muster. Once I get it, I’ll gladly show you, though.”

He turns off the light and lets his arm rest around her midsection. He strokes her belly with his thumb, like he’s strumming guitar. “You know,” he says, “you could really have fun with a good dream once you learn how to do that.”

“Guess why I want to practice on you,” she says with a smile in the darkness.

“Be careful or you might go to school tomorrow flushed with sex.” She chuckles softly. “All part of the plan, babycakes.”

“Well, that oughta turn Durbin on.” Cabel’s voice turns bitter.

Janie turns toward Cabel. “Have you figured out yet why nobody narcs on Durbin?”

“I think so,” Cabel says. “It’s because he’s only a few years older and good-looking and athletic, and he really acts as if he likes the science-type kids. He accepts their geek minds and praises them for it. He’s the epitome of a cool, popular kid, whose groupies have never been popular in their lives. They lap it up.”

Janie clears her throat.

Waits.

Clears it again.

“I—I mean,” stutters Cabel, “ah, I mean, some of them are like that, and some, you know, some others, like you, for example, see right through the facade and…uh…shit like that.”

“Mmm hmm,” Janie says.

“And…I love you so much? And now I’m going to shut up and go to sleep, so you can manipulate my mind in a dozen ways and more?”

“Weak,” she says. “But it’ll do.”

Cabel dreams.

Janie slides into the darkness, and then into the computer room.

It’s a dream that’s loosely based on the night they made love there.

She’s watching him, she’s watching herself, curiously, surprised to see how quickly they find their rhythm together for the first time.

She concentrates with all her might. Stares at Cabel. Pause, she thinks, over and over again.

A minute goes by, but nothing changes.

Another minute.

And then the scene slows.

Ten seconds later it’s paused. In a very interesting spot, Janie notes.

Janie looks around the room, trying to notice everything. The office items on the desk; the clock on the wall stopped as well; the color of everything. It’s incredibly difficult to hold the scene there. And then she begins to lose it. She can feel her body shaking, weakening, and the dream slips into regular speed again.

Her head pounds. Her fingers are numb. She bumps Cabel with her behind, trying to wake him just enough so she doesn’t have to use her waning energy to pull out of the dream too. She knows she can’t do it after that. She can barely feel her arms and legs as it is, already.

Cabel takes in a sharp breath, and she can feel him against her backside, aroused in his sleep. He begins to stroke her numbing body while he’s still in the dream. She can feel his touch, fading in and out on her skin, as she’s seeing it in his mind. And she’s stuck. And falling.

And very aroused and blind and numb and watching it in her mind while feeling it on her body, all at the same time, and she wants it.

Wants to make love right now. But she is completely paralyzed.

She can’t move.

She can’t feel anything.

She can’t speak.

It can’t happen. Not like this.

She needs to wake him up, before something happens. So they can do it right.

She takes all her strength, all her concentration, all her will. She bites blindly. Feels hair in her teeth. Pulls back with her neck.

And everything goes black.

She’s shuddering.

Shaking.

Trying to catch a breath as she aches to see something. Anything. His face. She wants to see his face.

He’s talking to her.

His hand is on her cheek, sliding through tears.

And she realizes it now.

Realizes that there will scarcely be a time when they roll together, unawares, and make love sleepily in the dead of a winter night, lingering on their dreams.

She’s broken.

Her muscles are like water.

And he’s there, lifting her shoulders, holding a glass to her lips, telling her to drink and swallow.

She can feel his fingers pushing the hair out of her eyes. Hear his voice in her ear. Smell his skin nearby. Taste the milk on her tongue, in her throat. And then slowly she sees shadows. Black and white, at first, and then his face, looking wild. His hair, flipping every which way.

His cheeks flushed.

And she speaks roughly. “It’s okay,” she says.

But it’s not okay.

Because she wants him, and now he’s afraid to touch her like that.

He makes her eat.

Sits by the bed.

Waits for her sleep to come.

She finds him, awake, on the couch in the morning.

Sits in the crook of his body.

And they look at each other, both so very sorry and neither one needing to be.

Cabel, feeling helpless. Janie, trapped by her own ability. Despairing in their own minds for a while, until they can come to terms with the life that lies ahead. And each, in their private thoughts on this Valentine’s Day, wonders briefly if it should go on.