Aris Returns (34 page)

On this day, I was not a participant so I enjoyed watching the event from just behind
the canopy’s shadow. The Queen smiled. She tossed her head as lords and gentry approached
to greet her, to introduce their ladies. As the standards flew on the flagstaffs,
their colors undulated in the wind. The fabrics made sharp cracking sounds as the
sudden gusts slapped them against the polished wood of the poles. There was laughter
and bantering from every corner as Anne ruled - the Queen of Charm - sitting high
above it all.

Suddenly, the sounding of trumpets. The knights mounted. Another fanfare as they rode
into the arena at a gallop. Their armor glistened in the morning light and the saddles
of their great horses were polished until even the leather gleamed like jewels. The
lords and challengers reined in quickly so their horses reared, pawing the air with
their front feet. I ached to mount, to ride, to once again be champion of the joust,
but this was not the day for me. The Queen asked me to stay with her. I knew there
was a greater purpose to her request than the pleasure of my company.

The knights and lords promenaded before beginning the tournament, some even employed
bards to tell a poem or sing of their bravery. The trumpets sounded the King’s fanfare
as he made his way into the arena.
All rose to greet him. He bellowed a hearty laugh. The ladies of the court dressed
in Tudor green and white followed in a wagon appointed to resemble a forest glen.
Their dresses glistened in the sunlight as it shined down on the metallic threads
and jewels bedecking their gowns.

The crowd grew silent as the King dismounted to make his way toward the Queen.

She rose and curtsied. He kissed her hand. A roar of approval went up from the crowd.
The radiant King sat, merry in the morning light, motioning Anne to sit beside him.
No sooner was he seated than he was handed wine and sweetmeats. The King did not ever
sit for long without eating and drinking as if being seated had only the purpose of
being fed.

Once more the knights circled the arena with the heralds shouting their titles. Each
knight rode before the royal box presenting their arms while Anne had something personal
to say to each man. Her dark eyes glistened as she tilted her head, flirting with
each of the champions. The crowd was in an uproar when the last knight left the arena,
ready for the jousting to begin.

The King rose, moving to his personal box across from the Queen. He chatted with the
men surrounding him, his favorites, as two knights prepared for the first challenge.
When all was ready, he rose. The crowd grew silent once more. He raised his great
gauntlet above his head, paused a moment, then gestured toward the Queen, bestowing
the honor of the calling of the joust upon her. The crowd thundered with cheers, stomping
feet and clapping hands.

The two contenders waited at either end of the jousting line, their horses pawing
the sand. Anne rose and with a flourish, dropped her glove. The knights spurred their
horses as the huge beasts thundered toward one another. Each rider balanced his lance,
preparing for the moment of contact. The sound of armor being hit echoed through the
arena like thunder. One of the knights was knocked from his horse but there was no
wound, no bleeding. Being one of the King’s personal guards, I was constantly with
the court and I had not fed for days. I worried that the
smell of blood would incite my hunger. I stepped back on the platform as the vanquished
knight lay in the sand. I was safe for the moment. His man helped him from the field,
nothing broken, nothing cut.

The Queen sensed my movement. She called me close to her once again. As the next two
champions prepared for the challenge, she motioned me nearer still so she could whisper
to me. “Aris, I have another mission for you.” She caught my eye, her lips curled
up in a malevolent smile. “Are you prepared to once again be my own special champion?”

I lowered my head, speaking quietly, “I am always prepared to be your champion, my
Lady.”

She touched my arm. “Very well, I will call on you soon,” she turned her attention
to the joust.

I stepped into the shadows behind her, gazing around the arena wondering which poor
knave was the next to die.

“Sarah.”
She was called back to present time at the sound of her name.
“I am prepared to be your own champion and I swear, I will find a way to be with you
in your own time.”

Her heart pounded at the thought of being with him. She whispered, “It seems, Aris,
that all things may be possible.” She wondered what it would be like to stand in the
presence of the vampire. To be held in his arms. To be kissed by his immortal lips.
A hot flush spread over her body at the thought.

#

Carlos sat in his usual chair across from her. The lights in the other office buildings
came on one by one as the sky grew dark. She sipped from her mug of tea. He toyed
with his soda can, spinning it mindlessly in his hand. He enjoyed the time he spent
with her after his hypnotic sessions.

“So, what’s going on now?”

She was surprised at the gruff tone to his voice. She answered quickly, “Going on?”

He placed the soda can on the corner of her desk. He leaned back
in his chair, his long legs sprawled, his hands resting on his belt. “So what’s up
with you and this Aris character?”

“Carlos, you’re talking about him as if he were someone else. He is you.”

He tipped his head and stared at her. He finally spoke. “So I’m a thousand-year-old
vampire, huh? Sarah, I’ve told you before, you need some therapy.” He laughed, reaching
for the soda once again.

“You know exactly what I mean. He’s a part of your subconscious.” She stood and paced
in front of the window. “It’s a deeper part of you telling us a story. But that story
has a deep meaning for you today. I think we’re on the brink to discover what that
meaning is and how it relates to what is going on in your life right now.”

“Sarah, do you honestly believe that? I mean that all this vampire crap can have something
to do with why my life’s so screwed up?”

“First of all, your life is getting better all the time. You have a job. You’re out
of trouble. Colleen told me you’ve even done some sketches. I didn’t know you could
draw.”

He glanced at the floor before he met her eyes, “Yeah, well I never tried before.
That day at the museum got me thinking so I started messing around with a pencil.
Picked up a couple of books at the bookstore. I got a lot of tips from there.” He
looked embarrassed. “I’m not good or anything. It’s just something to do in my spare
time.”

“Colleen said they were very good. Will you bring them in to show me?”

“Sure,” he stood, moving toward the door.

“Carlos, what’s wrong.”

“Nothing Sarah, just quit trying to make me into something I’m not. I’m no artist.”
He turned the knob and left the room. The door clicked softly as he closed it.

S
arah looked out her window, sipping morning coffee. Sunday’s were always quiet. The
newspaper was scattered around her on her bed. She tried to read but she couldn’t
concentrate. Her thoughts were full of Aris and Carlos and the man of her intense
dreams. Carlos and Aris. How did the one fit with the other? So different, yet so
alike.

It had been months and Aris continued to be a dominating force in the sessions. Sarah
thought another subconscious story might surface eventually, but it didn’t. She knew
their work together greatly reduced Carlos’ anger, his frustration. She saw definite
changes in him. So did he and he appreciated them. He liked his newfound discipline,
his work ethic. He was taking night classes, excelling in them. His world was expanding
as his knowledge was growing.

His confidence was coming from his personal growth, his self- awareness, not his fists
and his anger. He began to see himself as a man with inner strength, to understand
that there were more important things than being part of a pack of petty criminals.
He kept his word and his job. He read books and searched to find a deeper part of
himself. Yet it seemed that in his subconscious, there was no one but Aris.

And Aris? What of this being? What about the stories he told?
How did Carlos know about things happening five hundred years ago? She never before
questioned her findings with her clients. She knew their stories were from the subconscious,
authenticity wasn’t important, just content. But his hypnotic tales weren’t just stories.
She was being taught history by someone who was there. How? Why?

The harsh sound of the ringing of the phone snapped her attention to the present.
Loud music blasted from the receiver as she answered.

“Hello?”

“I told you to lay off. It was tires last time, next time it will be you. I’ve given
you way too many chances. You just used the last one.” The voice was barely audible,
the words bitten off. “This is your last warning hypno lady. And I mean last.” The
phone went dead in her hand.

Sarah caught her breath, placing the receiver on the night table. “I have to talk
to Bob and Colleen.” She whispered to herself, trying to calm her racing heart. “I
have to tell them everything.”

#

Colleen waved as Sarah crossed to her table. Sarah sat down across from her friend,
an alarmed expression on her face.

“What’s up, hon? What’s the matter?”

“Colleen, it’s about Carlos.” She was careful in presenting her story. She still didn’t
want to involve Carlos with the police, but she needed help.

“What about Carlos?” She leaned in to hear better in the noisy restaurant. It was
late Sunday brunch time and the deli was full of families eating and laughing. “What’s
going on?”

“I think his old gang is trying to get him involved again.”

“Yeah?” Her brow puckered in concern. “How so?”

“Well.” Sarah wasn’t sure how much to tell. She was glad the waitress came to the
table to take her order. It gave her a moment to
think. She looked at the menu without seeing the words, ordering coffee and scrambled
eggs out of habit. When they had privacy, she spoke. “I’ve gotten a few phone calls
from one of them.”

“Phone calls? How did they get your number?”

“I don’t honestly know. All I know is that they want Carlos back and he refuses to
see or talk to them.”

“Do you know who it is who called you?”

“No, not for sure but I have a good idea. He contacted Carlos’s mother. She knows
who he is.”

Irritation showed through Colleen’s voice when she spoke. “When did this happen, this
thing with his mother?”

Sarah looked at the coffee mug as the waitress set it on the table. She glanced at
Colleen quickly, “A while back.”

“A while back? Was this before or after the tire slashing? Why the hell didn’t you
tell me then? What’s going on with you Sarah?”

“I didn’t want to get the police involved. I don’t want anything to stand in his way
of moving forward and out of the lousy life he’s led.” Her tone was apologetic, “I
want him to succeed.”

“You think I don’t? What the hell is the matter with you? I’m here to help him, not
hurt him. Don’t you remember who sent him to you in the first place?”

“Yeah, I know. But I don’t want any of this to be official.” She looked directly into
her friend’s eyes. “I’m coming to you as a friend. As someone who knows him and knows
how different his life is becoming. God, Colleen, I want him safe and happy more than
anyone knows.”

Colleen leaned closer and reached across the table to take her hands in her own. “I
know it.” Her voice softened as she spoke, “I know it. And I’m here to help both of
you. I think I know more how you feel about Carlos than you do.”

Sarah jerked her hands away. “Don’t start with that romantic crap. He’s a client and
a friend, nothing more. He’s just someone
who is so deserving, so basically good. He’s come such a long way. I don’t want him
pushed back into the gutter.”

Colleen took her hands again and squeezed. “I know, I know. I want to help him too.
We’ll take care of this, nothing official, but Sarah, I’m going to have to tell Bob.
We need his help here.”

The word was clipped as she spoke. “No!”

“Yes, hon, we need more information than either you or I have. Bob won’t turn cop
on us. He likes Carlos and more important than that, he respects how hard he is working
to turn his life around. Sarah, I told you, it takes a village to raise one person
up, a village, not just two hard working women. We need help and my husband will be
glad to do it.”

Silence reigned for a moment, then Sarah spoke quietly, “Okay, ask Bob. I’m just at
a place where I don’t know what to do next.”

Colleen nodded her head, “So what did the guy say to you on the phone?”

Sarah sipped the hot coffee, and then began her story.

#

It was early afternoon the next day when they met. The air was hot, the high humidity
made their lightweight clothes stick to them as the three friends walked through the
park. Even in the heat, the sidewalk was crowded with people.