Mortal Desire (3 page)

‘Liam, I am Albert. Do not fear. You must remain as still as death for four days. Then the body will be wrapped and taken to the crypt. From there we will exit to the world to start afresh. Patience my boy, pazienza. All things are in place.’ Albert’s voice was deep
and calm. I trusted him in all things. He was my assigned Protector.

I shook my head to rid my mind of my four hundred year old memory, turned off the light and made my way to my sleeping quarters. I entered the mindless routine of showering and preparing my human body for sleep.

Once I clambered into bed, I reached for the blue energy mass that hovered in mid-air above my pillow.

The instant that I touched it, I felt the energy influx awakening my mind, opening the gateway to inter-dimension communication. The beautiful violet colour of my mother’s spirit filled the blue energy mass and I felt her presence with me.

‘Liam, time is of the essence, and your time is ebbing away.

Be careful, don’t get caught in the realm of the perceived

physical dimension of the Earthly realm as an immortal

human, unable to return to the Light. It will be like

self-torture. The Light is your rightful place. You must return

to the Light. Heed this warning. Time is of the essence ...’

Her coloured spiritual force faded from the blue energy mass, like the light sets with the sun at twilight. I screwed my eyes shut and clenched my jaw to contain the grunt of pain in my chest that tried to escape when my mother’s energy receded back to the spiritual realm.

For four hundred years I had been trapped on the Earth sphere engaged as an Earth human, plagued by physical torment, chained to the laws of gravity, and craving to return to the Light, to freedom, to love.

I breathed deeply and stared at the hovering blue energy mass. I lifted my hand to it and watched as the fourth state of matter arced to my finger tips like bolts of lightning, lighting my entire sleeping chamber like it was daylight. My fingertips tingled under the warmth until the plasma retreated back into the glowing blue energy.

Then gravity forced my hand to drop to the bed beside me.

I sighed and wondered how long I would be subject to this living nothingness cut off from my spiritual homeland.

Patience … and acceptance; those attributes I had learned, but self-control was the essence of temperance, self-control in all things … and I was still working on that one.

‘Il coraggio, la temperanza, la saggezza, la giustizia, la pazienza, Courage, temperance, wisdom, justice, patience,’ I whispered to myself, searching for some kind of comfort before I slipped into the unconsciousness of sleep.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Blinding light entered through the cracks in the white plantation shutters that covered my windows. I rolled over and placed the pillow over my head, wishing that I had more time to sleep. I chuckled to myself. Sometimes I was such a human! My only wish was that I could die like one. I rose from the bed chamber and sauntered out into the kitchen with my eyes full of sleep. Albert was there staring at me as though I was the walking dead.

‘Welcome to the land of the living Liam O’Connell. Your breakfast awaits you—it is about to be devoured by the manipulative cat as we speak.’

I looked over at the table. Matisse was sitting on the dining chair like a human, eyes focused, ears pointing forward and a paw about to swipe a piece of bacon off the plate. I walked over to her and pushed her off the chair and sat down, but then fed her a little bacon to satisfy her predatory skills. Matisse with the bacon blues was not a good sight to suffer, and the assault on one’s ears was akin to torture.

Albert joined me at the table. He looked at me like I had forgotten something important.

‘Put me out of my misery Albert. What have I done, or not done?’ I questioned and cocked an eyebrow at him.

‘I want to know of the message from your mother Liam,’ he replied. He pierced my eyes with his.

I looked at my cup of tea, picked it up and took a sip. ‘She told me that time is running out,’ I replied in a quiet voice. No eye contact.

‘Indeed it is. You cannot dilly dally and meander your way through immortality on the Earth Liam—it is not meant to be. And I for one do not want to be locked upon the physical realm of the Earth for eternity. It tortures me as it is!’

I looked at Albert in all of his physical ugliness. I could see how difficult it must be for him to be accepted by the human society that is so bent upon shallow vanity. It took a very special person to look beyond the outer human shell and into the beauty of his heart and mind. I was no doubt still his only friend, beside the cat that tried to dominate him.

‘Yes. I am aware of the short comings of life on the Earth. Not only do we battle the physical heaviness of the cumbersome body, we battle the daily judgment from others, purely based on our looks. Please accept my apology for forcing the human life upon you Albert. It cannot be pleasant for you.’

‘Liam … as your Protector, it is not my happiness that I seek, but yours. But I do accept your apology none the less ... thank-you.’ Albert’s voice was quiet. He looked into my eyes then deeper, into my soul and spirit.

I nodded towards him and then tucked into my breakfast, grateful that Albert had become such a great cook. Goodness knows that he has had four hundred years to perfect his culinary skills. His initial attempts to cook human food when we first arrived upon the Earth left much to be desired.

I stood and bowed to Albert before I left the table to prepare for the day’s work, as was customary to give thanks to one whom had served.

While I dressed, the twelve days remaining to achieve Mr. Bellini’s goal ruminated around in my mind. I wondered if Mr. Bellini could see what was coming his way. I wanted to believe that is was impossible to see into the future. But I knew better, for Albert was gifted with visions of the future. I, on the other hand, was simply the instrument for things to flow and change. To me it just seemed to fall into place perfectly, like the missing jigsaw pieces. But to Albert, it was what was pre-destined.

I pulled the white t-shirt over my head and onto my shoulders, and stopped. I looked at the scar on my left pectoral muscle. It was like the numeral eight, except on its side—depicting no end—a continuous circle of life.

It symbolized my immortality.

I was a marked man.

Only immortals knew the sign, and I had no intention of revealing myself to another immortal. It was better left that Albert and I were the only ones who knew our history, being and future. To become involved with another immortal would be the nail in the coffin ensuring that I live forever on the Earth, as long as it remained before its final destruction, unable to enter as a spiritual being into the spiritual realm.

I shook my head, repulsed at the fact that Earth immortality was revered by some Earth humans. Unknown to them it was a curse. If only they knew the depth and breadth of being subject to eternity on the Earth and its ramifications and shortcomings, they would not seek it. And I certainly had no intention of remaining a prisoner of the curse.

I picked up my work satchel and hung it across my shoulder
and chest before I entered the kitchen to wish Albert a good
day.

Then, just as I put my hand on the front door of the apartment, Albert called out over his shoulder, ‘Wear your acid wash jeans to work today Liam. They will serve you well later!’

I turned to look at him. He remained standing at the sink washing the dishes. He made no attempt to turn and make eye contact with me. After a moment I took a deep breath and returned to my room to change into the said jeans, shaking my head in wonder about the sudden order to change.

What did he see? Or what did he know that I did not?

As I turned the door knob to leave the apartment, Albert called over his shoulder once again, ‘Enjoy!’ His shoulders bounced as he chuckled to himself. He could be so annoying!

A bitterly cold wind swept along the busy roadway while I walked to the Metropolis Mirage. I pulled the collar of my thick coat higher covering my neck, and hence my immortal scent.

‘Remember to keep your neck covered when walking in the open…’

‘Why Mamma?’

‘Because there are some immortals on the Earth who will

scent your true identification, and seek you out. Not all

immortals are good Liam. You must remember that!’

‘Yes Mamma. I will remember.’

I lowered my head and focused on the footpath underfoot. The brisk walk to work would be good for the physical body that I occupied.

I skipped up the steps to the Metropolis Mirage Building and entered the revolving door, then the door immediately on the right that led to the staff quarters.

Elevator Dukes were busy polishing their black shoes so that the lights reflected off them, shining the brass buttons on their uniforms and doing the obligatory final check for imperfections before donning their attire for work.

‘Top of the mornin’ Henry. Gold star for being on time!’ yelled Aidan.

An immediate cheering and clapping echoed throughout the locker room.

I looked down and smirked at their energetic cajoling before I entered the code into my locker to start my own morning ritual of preparing myself for the day.

After checking my black uniform in the mirror, I left for Elevator Thirteen, entered it and rode the elevator up the shaft ensuring that it was in good working order.

Once it had come to hover on the ground level again, I opened the double doors, stepped out and waited in the elevator foyer in anticipation for the start of the day.

She was there again—the stunning girl with the red hair.

I gave her a polite smile and tilted my head towards her.

‘It is a beautiful day Miss Flynn,’ I mused, connecting my honey-brown coloured eyes to her green eyes, holding the connection for as long as I could.

‘Yes,’ she whispered, and smiled at me with the shyness of a child. She stood when she saw Mr. McEwan approach. She walked towards him with a spring in her step, her ivory coloured long skirted dress flowing behind her. He looked at her but did not return the beaming smile that she offered him. And when she held out a small gift bag to him with enthusiasm, he held up his hand and looked away in disapproval.

Miss Flynn frowned. Her shoulders sagged and she dropped her arm by her side and followed him as he walked towards Elevator Thirteen.

‘Good morning Mr. McEwan,’ I chirped when he stepped over the threshold.

He simply nodded at me and stood at the back of the elevator.

I smiled at Miss Flynn. ‘Which Floor Miss?’ I asked, expecting her to wait for Mr. McEwan to give the answer.

‘Floor eight please Henry,’ she answered, and looked at Mr. McEwan for reassurance of her floor choice. I saw him nod ever so slightly.

‘And sir?’ I asked, playing along with his game of deception, so as not to upset the client.

‘Ah … same,’ he replied looking past me, and at himself in the reflective surface of the elevator wall.

He stood with his hands in his pockets, pretending he did not know the girl that stood in the elevator with us. He was deceiving himself; the worst type of lie.

At the sound of the door ping, Mr. McEwan took the parcel from Miss Flynn’s hand and passed it over to me in an aggressive manner.

‘For you Henry … enjoy,’ he said in a low monotone voice before he exited the elevator in haste.

Miss Flynn gasped behind him. I looked into the bag and saw a beautiful silk tie in shades of grey. She would have spent a good portion of time choosing the perfect tie for him. I looked up at Miss Flynn with a look of apology on my face. Her eyes flicked to mine and I saw her tears well. She quickly blinked them away to conceal the hurt that he had just dealt her. She hurried after him with her head held low, like a puppy that had just received a scolding.

When the elevator doors closed, I breathed deeply, and exhaled with a controlled slowness. My heart broke for her. But unfortunately it was human nature for some to be scum. And that was what Mr. McEwan was—utterly and purely.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened on the tenth floor. Mr. Asher Camden stood waiting with his hands in the pockets of his black suit. He brushed his rough chin with his fingers, leaned forward a little and then stepped into the elevator and nodded to me.

I nodded back. ‘What is your destination sir?’ I asked, articulating my words fluently.

‘Aaah … three please,’ he replied, a little preoccupied. He rummaged through his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. It must have been set to vibrate because I did not hear it announce a call. He looked at the screen and held a business-like facial expression before he put it to his ear. I looked away, ready to tune out of the business lingo that would gush from his mouth like a torrent of water.

‘Darling wife, how are you?’ he asked in a cheery voice before his face froze.

My gaze snapped back towards him. His mouth gaped open before he dropped to his knees on the elevator floor. He clutched his chest and twisted his face up as if in pain. Then he dropped the cell phone down by his side before he placed it back to his ear.

‘Yes. Yes. We must talk. It is not what you are thinking … it is not like that … we can work through this. I love you Alice … let me explain …’

I stopped the elevator. It would not be right to allow others into the lift while Mr. Camden was in the middle of a domestic dispute. He had his pride to maintain, and I would not let him be destroyed by others seeing him in his weakness, although it was tempting to let him suffer under his wrong doings.

So … his wife has discovered his infidelities …

He dropped his cell phone to the floor and stared at it, then ran both of his hands through his hair and swallowed hard.

‘Mr. Camden … I can help you. What would you like me to do?’ I asked. I remained calm and controlled of the etheric energy field on the elevator.

Mr. Bellini, a live and emotional morsel is coming to the Establishment. Even more juicy with sauciness …

Mr. Camden looked up at me. Tears threatened. Emotional pain was etched onto his face; his chin quivered. ‘Help me? How can you help me? You are nothing but a worthless, useless, lowlife Elevator Operator,’ he spat out at me, his words of venom trying to poison me.

He stood and took one step towards me. His eyes burned his wish of death into me, fuelled by anger in his look, making him as ugly as hell.

I lifted my hand, removed my white glove and touched his arm. My amnis travelled under his skin to his brain to his amygdala, the centre of anger emotion. Within an instant he stepped back from me and tears fell down his face, all anger gone. ‘Help me Henry,’ he said. His voice was weak. He fell to his knees and clasped his hands together in front of his mouth. ‘I beg of you … please help me …’ His eyes pleaded with me.

I nodded to him in compassion, and indicated for him to stand. Turning to the shiny brass buttons on the wall, I pressed number thirteen. This pitiful man’s life was about to change, and he wouldn’t remember a thing about his troubles.

Was it a good thing or bad?

Whatever it was, it was not my position to judge. I was simply the delivery boy of the Establishment, whoever and whatever they were.

I led Mr. Camden out of the elevator and knocked on the door of Suite 8.

Old Mr. Milani, David Milani, opened the door and greeted me with a nod and a knowing smile. He exposed his perfect false teeth while looking over the frames of his dark rimmed square glasses. ‘So good to see you Henry, please come in,’ he croaked. He held up his hand and indicated the way for us to walk.

I looked back at Mr. Camden. His eyes were fixed on the floor. He was the perfect example of a broken man.

We arrived at a small sound proof office. Mr. Camden and I sat opposite Mr. Milani, who had positioned himself behind his perfectly clean white desk. The fluorescent lighting showed every line and wrinkle on Mr. Milani’s face, and the grey regrowth of his hair. He must have been about seventy-five years old.