Aris Returns (4 page)

Sarah was disconcerted by the surly attitude Carlos was presenting even though it
was more in tune with his parole profile. He had been polite and agreeable during
his first visit. His initial reaction to her and the therapy program she suggested
was positive. She had been confident their sessions would continue in the same vein,
however, his mood today proved different. Not wanting any kind of interaction he could
misconstrue as confrontation she decided to go along with him.

“Fine.” She rose to move across the room. Sitting in the straight back chair resting
near the leather recliner, she gestured toward him. “You’ll need to move over here.”

Carlos sat down. He leaned back in the recliner, closing his eyes. “It felt good when
you put me out last time. I felt real calm and I like that.”

“Good” she crossed her legs. “Now, begin to focus on your breath.”

#

“Fully relaxed, you begin to move down the stairs and with each step, you become even
more relaxed. More at peace. More calm. As
you step off the last step, there is a door in front of you. It’s a huge wooden door
that has large brass hinges and an ancient latch. This door will lead us back through
time to a different place; a place where you were a different person with a different
life. In a moment when you are ready, you will step through that door and it will
be revealed to you.”

Sarah stared at the face of the handsome young man watching for the physical signs
of his hypnotic state. He appeared to be deeply responsive to all her suggestions.

“If you are ready to move forward, nod your head yes for me.” Very slowly his head
moved up and down. “In your imagination, you step to the door. You open it. It is
very heavy and swings open slowly. On the other side is a forest. It is a wild forest.
Tall trees with enormous thick trunks and dense, dark green leaves shield the vine
covered ground from the sun. Brambles and bushes surround you. A thick, gray mist
hovers over the soft earth making the air cool and moist.”

A strange smile played with the corners of his lips as she continued. “In the distance
you see a path through the trees and you walk to it, beginning to follow it. The light
grows dimmer yet you feel very safe and secure. The deeper you move into the forest,
the more relaxed and calm you feel, the deeper your hypnotic sleep.

“There are sounds in the forest and they are calming and peaceful. You move forward
hearing the muffled shuffle of your own feet on the path. And the deeper you travel
into the forest, the deeper the sleep.”

Leaning forward, she watched the movement of his eyes behind his eyelids in order
to gauge the depth of his trance. She couldn’t help noticing the shadows of his eyelashes
on his cheeks, the faint circles beneath his eyes.

“As you travel forward you see the forest thinning and in the
distance, a faint light, then a clearing. As you near the clearing, you see a structure.
Can you see it? If you can, nod your head for me.”

Again, the faint movement of his head as he answered her request.

“Can you tell me what you see?”

He was silent for a moment as if he were remembering how to speak.
“Yes, I see a castle.”
His voice was the same yet different. Deeper. More resonant. His accent had changed.
There was a distinctly British ring to his words.
“It is Hever Castle.”

“Where are you?”

“I am in England.”

“What is the year?”

“It is 1529.”

Her eyes opened wider in wonder. “And what are you doing in England?”

“I have been summoned to Kent by Anne Boleyn, the mistress of King Henry VIII.”

Tudor England. How strange that this young man from the city would see Tudor England.

“Why has she summoned you?”

“I know not. I have yet to speak with her.”

“Are you walking?”

“No, I am seated on my horse.”

“Who are you?”

“I am one of the King’s knights. A warrior. A hero. One of the undead.”

Sarah hesitated, bewildered. “Undead? Tell me more.”

“I shall speak no more this day.”

“Who are you?” The room was silent except for his slow, gentle breathing. “What is
your name?”

“I’m Carlos Havarro.” His words were slow, his speech stilted.

“Tell me more of your time in England?”

“I’ve never been to England.” His Spanish accent returned.

It was obvious to her he was back to present day. She glanced at her watch, realizing
the regression had been short yet quite clearly successful. After a thoughtful moment,
she decided to bring him out of hypnosis to continue talk therapy.

“I will count from zero to five. When I reach the number five you will open your eyes,
wide awake and feeling fine. One, coming up, feeling your breath move in and out of
your body. Two, being more aware of the recliner beneath you. Three, experiencing
the movement of the air currents in the room. Four, completely focused inside your
body. Five. Eyes open, wide awake.”

Slowly his eyes opened as he turned his head to look at her. There was a strange,
puzzled look on his face as he sat up in the chair. Then he grinned.

#

It was past eight o’clock when Sarah glanced at her watch. After taking a sip of the
cold Earl Grey tea sitting on her desk, she completed her notes in everyone else’s
file before she opened his. He intrigued her as much as he made her nervous. His incredible
masculine beauty. His childhood. His emotional battles. His past life regression.
What had he meant by undead? She heard the term in old vampire movies and she knew
that present day movies about them were all the rage. The media was bombarded with
films, television programs and one book series after another. Had he really been under
or was he just playing with her?

“No, he had all the signs of a deep hypnotic state,” she spoke quietly to herself.
“What in the world is his subconscious telling me?”

Reading over her notes from their talk therapy session a third time, she was still
unable to make a logical connection that would link him with England.

His parents were both born in Mexico and even though his
paternal grandparents were incredibly wealthy, it was in no way similar to a royal
court. Besides, his mother was of peasant stock and they left Mexico long before Carlo’s
birth so he wasn’t exposed to the affluence of the family. She was lured forward by
the mystery of his regression.

She closed the file, shutting down for the day. As she turned out the light and locked
the door she was glad it was Friday. At the same time, she wished she didn’t have
to wait another week to see him. His past police record made her uneasy working with
him yet she didn’t really feel he was physically dangerous and the story he was telling
was more than unique. She couldn’t forget the odd look he had given her when she brought
him back to real time. Bewildered and strangely compelling.

#

Shutting off the light, Sarah pulled the covers over her shoulders and nestled into
her pillow. She was tired but couldn’t sleep. The session with Carlos played over
and over in her mind. She was still wondering at his reference to the “undead” when
her mind finally quieted and she drifted off.

A sound close by roused her. Her dream vision was with her once more. Standing next
to her bed, his broad shoulders were outlined by the moonlight coming through her
window. She sighed, giving herself over to the enchanted fantasy.

His large hands reached to slide the comforter to the foot of the bed. She was amazed
at their gentleness as he leaned toward her to stroke her hair. Shadow obscured his
features but she could see the soft thick hair that barely touched his shoulders was
light in color. His fragrance was overpowering, a scent warm and mysterious, woody
and primeval, an aroma that wrapped around her as he sat beside her. She prayed she
would not awaken.

They were in silence as his hands caressed her face, her neck. She shivered with pleasure.
Slowly, he lowered his lips to press them
to the hollow at the base of her throat. Gentle kisses traced her chin to find their
way to the corner of her mouth. His was lush, his breath warm and sweet. She felt
her heart quicken.

Tender hands massaged her shoulders then leisurely began to unbutton the top of her
pajamas. Sliding his arm behind her, he lifted her until she was sitting in bed. He
slid the soft fabric from her body then dropped it to the floor. He laid her down
into her soft pillows. Her breasts were round and inviting. The pounding of her heart
was answered by a deeper pulsing that began in a dark place inside of her.

His hands cupped her breasts and his lips found the deep valley between them.

The shrill sound of the alarm brought her wide awake, her heart exploding in her chest.
As she reached to turn it off, she halted in mid-move. There, lying on the floor next
to her bed was the top to her pajamas. She gasped as her hand hit the alarm button
and the room became silent except for her panting breath.

S
unday morning was her favorite. Her weekly ritual was to laze around her apartment,
drinking coffee while she read the paper. Sitting on the beige living room sofa facing
the sliding glass door, she was cozy and warm as she watched the snow accumulate on
the patio. The cold wind blew it into a small drift against the window glass. She
propped her feet on the light oak coffee table, picked up the paper and began to skim
the weekend segments. Avoiding the headlines, she went straight to the calendar section.
The cover showed a photo of a handsome young couple at a movie premier. “More vampire
stuff. I can’t get away from it, even in the paper.”

Carlos had been on her mind since their session and here it was again. Vampire. She
turned to the review of the film. On a whim she decided to spend the cold, dreary
afternoon in the dark of a movie theatre seeing just what the fascination with the
Goth world was. She didn’t want to wait until evening to be surrounded with teenage
girls swooning over the sexy young actor. Checking the film schedule, she found there
was plenty of time before the matinee.

After folding the paper carefully making sure she didn’t create any new creases, she
placed it on the coffee table, then picked up her cup and carried it to the kitchen.
Sarah washed and dried her dishes, carefully placing them in the cupboard so all the
cup handles
faced in the same direction. She smiled as she looked around her. There were baskets
hanging from the ceiling and fresh basil and dill hung drying from the handles on
the blond wood cupboards. She loved her new home but the kitchen was one of her favorite
rooms. She turned off the light then went to her bedroom.

Tilting her blinds to give privacy, she prepared for her shower. Stripping out of
her blue and white stripped flannel pajamas, she folded them neatly, tucking them
under her fluffy white pillow keeping her life and world in neat order.

The skylight in the bathroom opened to the dull gray early afternoon clouds, casting
shadows on her face as she looked into the mirror. She leaned closer to examine the
fine lines around her blue eyes. “Not too bad for a vintage woman,” she repeated Maggie’s
words to herself then opened the shower door to turn on the hot water. As she glanced
at her body in the full length mirror on the wall, she was quite happy with her reflection.
“Working out is miserable but it pays off.” She smiled at her newfound vanity. The
gym was one of the many new facets to her life after her divorce.

Working out helped her lose the fifteen pounds she added during her marriage, and
her therapy with Bonnie helped bring back the balance that had been missing in her
life for such a long time. During her marriage, her husband was always a priority
to her. The unfortunate issue was that Jeff was also the priority to himself. For
many years, he came first to both of them.

Accepting their marriage was one sided, she determined to stick it out; to make the
best of it. She actually thought they were doing well. When he asked for a divorce
telling her he loved someone else, she was sincerely shocked. Questioning her ability
to see the truth about Jeff when it was right in front of her all the time, she began
to question her ability as a therapist. Bonnie’s insight and therapeutic expertise
put her on a journey to finding her confidence once again. It had been a difficult
process.

At last, the success of her book and the recognition by her peers was a rite of passage,
a symbol of her own personal success in finding herself again. Once again she saw
her work affect her client’s lives, changing them for the better. Now, working with
Carlos was another step. His situation was one she had never experienced; it frightened
and intrigued her at the same time.

Sighing, she stepped into the shower. The water was steaming as she scrubbed her skin
with a soft brush. She rinsed the soap then lathered her hair. Sunday was a day when
she just went natural. No hair dryer. No makeup. No heels. Just jeans, warm boots
and a roomy, soft sweater. She loved it. After she used a squeegee on the glass walls
of the shower stall, she stepped onto the white bath mat. She dried herself, shook
her towel then folded it neatly. Her hair curled around her ears in soft, damp ringlets.