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Authors: Nancy Frederick

The Sportin' Life (35 page)

BOOK: The Sportin' Life
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She

ll help you with the time traveling,

said Cerise.

Before Addie could consider this fully, a scene began to play before her. She squinted to recognize the moments, but they were unfamiliar. There she was, looking rather old, apparently living in some nasty little apartment, with cheap, ugly furniture. Her clothes were very worn, yet she could not remember ever having owned those particular garments. She tore through some envelopes lying on a table, and ripped one open

it contained a check, some sort of unemployment or disability, a stipend she knew was unearned.

The door opened and in walked
Randolph
, even older than he currently was, and he grimaced as he surveyed the scene. His eyes, filled with rage, locked with her own, and he scowled at her as he set down a salad on the table.


Any Scotch?

she asked, walking closer to him on pretense of taking him in her arms, but he stepped back, utter repulsion on his face.


Don

t kid a kidder,

he said.

Once a month it

s my turn to check on you, but I never agreed to pretend we have a relationship.

Addie snapped out of the scene, aghast.

This never happened. This isn

t true. This didn

t happen. I never lived in that place. I was never a drunk. I didn

t need a caretaker.

Before she could protest further, another scene began. She stood, a bit unsteady on some very exotic, very high heels, grasping the arm of a spectacular looking younger man. He was tall, masculine perfection, and she clung to him as though the wind might blow him away. He allowed her to cling, yet she could feel him leaning away from her, not into her embrace. He was yielding unwillingly, or so a body language expert might say.

He pulled a key from his pocket and opened the door to a house even grander than the one in which she had lived and had recently lost.

I

ll need you to deposit some money tomorrow, babe, or some checks will bounce.

Then he pulled her close in his arms and she sighed. Perhaps they were genuinely in love; maybe they were married.

And have you thought any more about what we discussed?

he asked her, a wicked gleam in his eye.

Addie pondered, and then he reached out, twisted her around, her back to his front, ran his hand demandingly down her breast, his hand moving violently, obscenely, cupping her crotch tightly through her clothes.

You

ll see it

ll be fun. I have just the girl, she loves threesomes. It

ll be hot.

Addie

s heart sank as she withdrew from the scene. She knew what was coming next. The hidden camera. The film on the internet. Her career once again in ruin

once again over a man.


This never happened. I don

t know this creep. I never did any of this,

she said, her voice strident and irritated.


Possible futures,

said Dancer,

Your own expectations.


I knew it!

said Addie, triumphant.

I knew it was going to get worse, even more unbearable. My life was a disaster, sinking down into a mega-disaster. I did do the right thing! Don

t you see? I was screwed from the start. Did you see my son? He never loved me, never once, not once in his life. Who could stay alive in a life like that? I was going to end up in disgrace, some crone chasing sleazy gigolos, my life ruined again and again. I did the right thing! I should have done it sooner.

The three guides stood silently, listening to Addie. As she spoke, each reached out, offering a hand, a soothing touch, but Addie stepped back, out of their reach.


How are you doing this, anyway? Where is all this stuff coming from? How do you make these

um

holograms?


We just dip into the Akashic Records,

answered Dancer, serenely.


The what?

asked Addie, annoyed.


Everything that

s ever been done is recorded there. Everyone who has ever been born can be recalled. Every life. Every act,

said Dancer, cryptically.


It

s sort of like a magnetic strip, a library where all of life has been imprinted,

explained Cerise patiently.


I hate this so much,

snarled Addie.

It

s like I

m the only one left in the world and all my reality consists of is this

memories and might have beens. And you three standing there like a jury, passing judgment on me. Where

s the rest of the afterlife? Is it nothing but deluded wisps recreating life on earth and me, stuck here in this unearthly video arcade?

Cerise waived a hand and Addie could feel herself growing only slightly calmer. Still enraged, she looked in the direction of Cerise

s arm. There around her, in what appeared to be a tightly packed crowd, were millions of people, entities, light forms, in all manner of activity. Some were beautifully aglow, some seemed surrounded by gray clouds, some were rather shriveled, and they stood, on what appeared to be sets of their own, watching scenes from their own lives.


It

s just a matter of dimension,

said Cerise.

We can flow up or down, or stay here in the middle of all the activity. I thought you

d prefer some privacy.

Addie was relieved to be looking outside herself, and she noted a couple, both very old, yet beautifully aglow, step into each other

s arms and merge together like the beams of two flashlights aimed in the same direction. It was more than light

she watched them as they merged, and it seemed they floated into each other, and disappeared.


How beautiful,

murmured Addie.

Some kind of out of body love, or sex?

Cerise nodded and said,

Yes, it

s love and sex

it

s merging, blending souls. A little different than what you

re used to on earth but the idea is the same. But look closer.

Then Addie realized, it was Mrs. Kaplan, floating into the arms of her husband, reunited in joy and peace.

She

s dead?

asked Addie.


She

s still on earth,

said Cerise,

But we don

t have time here like you do on earth. I told you Dancer was here to help you with time travel.


So I

m looking at her future death?

Cerise nodded.

Addie did a double take when, in the distance, she could see someone she was sure was Mae West, and around her was a group of entities, laughing and glowing. They created a fantastic pool of light. She could see West

s face coming into and out of focus and in between she was simply shimmering light, an energy force field, surrounded by other glowing vibrations.


She

s a teacher here, helping them work on relationships, on self-actualization,

answered Cerise, although Addie had not asked.


They really glow,

said Addie.


They

ve been here a while. Finished their review, have cleared, but still want to continue working.

The entities around her faded into blankness once again as Addie looked down at herself. At best there was a muddy gray around her.

I

m so murky,

she said.


It takes time to clear away all the pain,

said Cerise.


Everyone in my life has caused me pain. That

s why I did it. I couldn

t take any more suffering. I never got what I needed. Never.

Addie grew more and more infuriated as the words poured out of her. The heat rose within her, and a ball of menacing red light whirled around her. It was rage, and it was perversely comforting. Addie saw compassion on the faces of her guides, but she ignored them, preferring to submerge into the whirlwind of anger which saturated her heart, then expanded to fill the entire area in which she stood, immobile, wishing she could run, could crash into something, could destroy something. If only there had been a punching bag, but no, in fact, she did not desire to smash something that was inert. She wanted to vent her rage on something which actually could feel. The atmosphere, or whatever surrounded her, had turned a solid red, and there was zero visibility except for the shimmering, love-saturated faces of her guides, like stars twinkling in the darkest night, faces which glowed and were surrounded by clean, uncolored light.

A little man appeared before her, his body small and withered, his face dark and sunken. The nasty moustache. That walk. Hitler! Adolf Hitler stood before her, speaking in a whisper that was ungodly and hoarse, and although she heard German, Addie understood his message as though uttered in her own language.


It feels good, doesn

t it? Power

it

s your power, let it in. Embrace it.

All around her appeared scenes of violence, hatred and murder. People were pummeling each other. Soldiers shooting each other. A man strangled his wife. A mother heaved her infant off a bridge into a roiling stream. A child sunk an axe deep into the skull of his sleeping parent. And there in the distance was Addie.

It was her

wasn

t it

yet she was a man, and Quatro, her most recent marital atrocity, was a woman, yet Addie could clearly see it was them, and she was the man. Dressed as a Nazi soldier, Addie had been raping Quatro, and then in an act of deviant pleasure, began plucking at the shredded clothing and skin beneath with a knife, watching mesmerized as the rivulets of blood drizzled down along Quatro

s limp body. As that became dull, Addie started plunging the knife into Quatro

s flesh, knowing where and how hard to strike so that there would be plenty of time to draw out the game. There was rage and pleasure in her soldier

s eyes, raw pain and humiliation in Quatro

s. Ultimately there was but a single breath left in Quatro, and at that moment Addie plunged the knife in deep, again and again, continuing to strike long after death had come, as the act of killing was unreserved pleasure.

Addie watched the scene, yet she also participated totally, inhabiting again the man

s body that once had been her own, and when the soldier she had been withdrew a penis from his blood stained uniform and proceeded to masturbate over the corpse of his victim, Addie knew she should be repulsed, but instead she felt joy. Quatro deserved it! It was thrilling! It was just!

Although Hitler standing beside her had provided a distraction that was monumental, he had not diverted her from feeling this all-encompassing emotion, this fury, and Addie felt the rage expanding inside her. From the depths of some pocket he pulled a rabbit, which was lean to the point of starvation, its ears limp, its limbs bloody. It breathed, but barely.

He thrust the rabbit forward toward her and said,

Here, finish it off.

BOOK: The Sportin' Life
5.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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