The Currency of Time Ch. 01

I sat on my bed and sipped at the quality Bourbon that was available in the bar, again courtesy of Lancaster's largesse. I didn't want to watch television, go out to the movies, head out for drinks and I didn't really feel like hunting fresh female companionship. It was unusual, but everybody has to take a night off once in a while to re-charge the batteries.

There was a knock at the door. I had a sudden intuition who it was, but if she wanted to go out again tonight I was going to have to pass. The mood I was in, I wouldn't be good company.

She stood there, dressed in scarlet short-shorts, a scarlet scoop-necked peasant blouse, looking like a walking flame. She held a paper bag in one hand and a stack of DVDs in the other.

I looked around for her handlers. They were there, as unobtrusive as they could be, but they were there.

"I'm afraid this is going to be a bad night, Deirdre. I'm not in the mood to party."

"That's good. Neither am I. I was hoping I could hang with you, smoke some weed, get drunk and watch some DVDs. "

"I don't know."

"I promise I won't spit any hot coffee on you. I'm bored. Maybe if you smoke a little bit and get drunk, you'll feel better."

The story of my life is a gradual descent into the abyss. I should have declined her offer, but I said, "Come on in."

We smoked and drank and watched two movies that wouldn't be released until the next year, "Men in Black II" and "Jason X." One was okay and one sucked. We made bad jokes about the one that sucked. I realized that when she wasn't being a spoiled brat who liked fucking multiples of men, she wasn't a bad kid.

At some point during the night, she wound up curled against me. She felt good against me. I wasn't sure when she started rubbing up a huge erection, but there it was. I grabbed her hand and said, "Stop."

She looked up at me with eyes I'd never noticed were a brilliant green and asked, "Why?"

I couldn't come up with a good reason so I remained silent.

Sometime later she was sucking, licking and nibbling the head of my cock. I have had a lot of blow jobs, but at that moment I really thought I was the recipient of one of greatest blow jobs in the history of the world – if not the single greatest.

She put a condom on me, mounted me and rode me like a bronco. I had enough presence of mind to ask her if she was safe to fuck and she informed me that her father had had her checked for every STD in the history of the world and she was clean.

We rested and I realized that itchy restlessness that had hung over me all day had vanished. It could have been the alcohol or the pot, but I had a feeling it was her.

It was hard to hold onto my thoughts, but I managed to say, "This doesn't make any sense. You're not my type. Women like you don't appeal to me."

"Could have fooled me," she said with a grin. She bent down to go after my cock again and I grabbed and stopped her.

"Stop. I don't understand. What is happening?"

She climbed on top of me. We had AC but no ceiling fan so I didn't understand why her hair flamed about her in ever-changing patterns.

"I shouldn't tell you, but I will. I have placed a Geis on you. Think of it as an Irish love spell. When I was a little girl, my father would tell me how we were descended from the gods of the Tuatha De Danann, the Celtic deities of Ireland before Christianity. He told me at times I could wield magic."

She leaned down to kiss me and her green eyes glowed in the dim light.

"I have placed a Geis on you and you are mine forever. You will be my man until you die."

The rest of the night drifted away in memories of soft female flesh, plunging into female openings, climaxes each stronger than the last, and then oblivion.

I woke Sunday morning to find a warm bundle next to me. I rolled out of bed to go pee and she was awake and staring at me when I came back.

"You sorry you didn't go out?"

"No, but I have to admit, you kind of creeped me out."

"How?"

"I didn't know I was bedding a witch."

She thought about it for a second, then burst into laughter.

"The Geis, Tuatha De Danann, all of that? You believed that?"

"It was all pretty – impressive. And your hair doing that floating thing, and your eyes glowing..."

She laughed again.

"I suppose being stoned out of your mind had nothing to do with all that? I'm surprised you didn't see leprechauns, or fairies. I've heard the stories of the Tuatha De Danann and the other Irish legends since I was a little girl. I was just having fun with you."

She rose naked out of the bed and swayed over to me.

"Does that mean you really think you're in love with me?"

"Don't push it. I'm just stunned that we wound up in bed together."

She turned and walked back to the bed and began to slip on her clothes.

"Okay, but next time you've going to have to come after me. I won't be throwing myself at you again."

Later that day I received a summons from Lancaster. I'd been expecting it. I walked into an open solarium centered on an Olympic sized swimming pool with glass walls that allowed a great view on the marshes behind the main house. There was a time, I'd been told, when the marsh had been dotted with clumps of oyster beds, but they had all been wiped out years before.

I didn't know what to expect. I wasn't ashamed or embarrassed at what had happened, but she was his little girl.

"Sit," he said gesturing to a pool chair. When I did, he just looked at me for a little while.

"I know what happened," he said. "I just don't know what, if anything, it means."

"That makes two of us. I don't know either."

"Is it just physical, or ..."

I looked him in the eye.

"It's definitely physical, but she's gotten under my skin. I told her she's not even my type, but I've been thinking about her. More than I ever expected to."

"I'm not going to tell you not to see her. Honestly, I trust her more with you than anybody I can think of. I don't think you're going to use her, but try not to hurt her, if you can."

"I think you ought to be telling that to her."

'I think you can handle yourself."

"I used to think so."

FAST-FORWARD TWO YEARS

It is early 2004, Orion has been dead a year from a sudden stroke, and Deirdre and I have been married for two years. She had gotten under my skin and I couldn't get her out. I still have a suspicion that she possesses magical powers because I've never been able to figure out how I could fall so hard and so fast for somebody who wasn't my type.

But I did. I always thought that when I married I'd probably keep a woman or two on the side because I could never imagine one woman keeping me satisfied. It didn't work out that way. We don't have sex every night when I'm home, but it's a rare week when we go three days without hitting the sheets. And I still do a fair amount of flying to various spots so coming home is always a party.

It's a good life, even though it's very different from anything I ever imagined for myself.

I have a wife, a job that now is more than a job because my work is for both of us, and I have learned that I want children. It just seems that now that we're both orphans, one or two chubby red-headed babies would make us a family and carry on for both of our families in the future. But so far, we haven't been lucky. We keep trying. It's a pleasant task.

Lately, though, there's been a faint undercurrent of ... something. I can't put my finger on it, but I think I've been spending too much time away from home. I had already decided that when I flew back home, we'd take a month's break on some tropical island, swim in the surf all day and drink tropical alcoholic drinks and spend all night making love.

I had been in one of the Russian Republics I'd rather not mention when I got an urgent phone call from one of Deirdre's assistants.

"Mr. McCarthy, I – I don't know how to tell you. Ms. Lancaster has been in an accident."

"What kind of accident? When? Is she hurt?"

"An automobile accident. She crashed into a power pole on I-295."

"When?"

"Night before last."

"Two days ago? Why the hell didn't somebody call me? And was she driving herself? Why?"

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Why wasn't I called? Is she hurt?"

More silence.

"What the hell? Are those hard questions to answer? Talk to me. Was she hurt bad?"

"I – we were told not to contact you..."

"You were told not to contact me? Who the hell told you that?"

"I'm afraid I did."

I recognized the voice of Daniel Goldman, Deirdre's chief administrative assistant. I had met him many times over the past year since Orion died. Deirdre was the owner of the company - no Board of Directors - it was hers, lock, stock and barrel. But she didn't know the business and Goldman had worked for her father for five years before his death. So he handled the day to day operations. He was a hard man and he didn't suffer fools, but we'd always gotten along.

"You told them not to call me and tell me my wife was in an accident and in the hospital?

Who the hell do you think you are? She's my wife."

"I run Lancaster Oil at her direction and I'm also responsible for her welfare as the chief stockholder in the company. I made the decision not to notify you."

"What possible reason could you have to keep me in the dark about her condition?"

"I'm not going into detail about that. I had reasons. I have a doctor's warning to keep you away from her, and her direction that she does not want to see you."

"That's impossible."

"It's very possible, Michael. She does not want you coming back. If you agree to continue working on your current project, we'll maintain your current pay scale. If you try to come back, all your credit through Lancaster Oil will be cancelled and you'll be left broke and you won't be working for us any longer. Try getting out of the Soviet Republics with no money and no official backing."

"I don't know why you're doing this, Daniel, but you're making a damned bad mistake. One you're going to regret."

"Don't try to come back. This situation may change and everything will be explained to you. You'll understand. But if you try to get back to Deirdre, we'll stop you."

"Good luck."

Within a half hour I found that all my company credit had been frozen. I could borrow money from friends, but they'd probably find another way to stop me. So I went to an acquaintance in the government who'd already made a good amount of money on the suspicion of a possible new oil field and called in a favor.

In an hour I had flown out on an unregistered private jet taking a path mostly over ocean waters, first the Mediterranean, then the Atlantic and we flew south to Cuba. We spent 20 minutes on a Cuban airfield where I transferred to a helicopter and it delivered me to a Norwegian freighter bound for Miami. A short hop on a private plane dropped me on a small private airfield in North Jacksonville where a rental car was waiting. It's good to have friends.

I called Goldman. It was 9 a.m.

"Where are you?"

"Keeping tabs? Back in Jacksonville. Let me see her. I'm going to get in. Whatever is going on, I deserve to know."

"You're not going to want to, Michael. Trust me. Just give it a few days and I'll be able to tell you everything."

"Okay. See you at the hospital."

"Michael..."

I hung up on him.

At 11 a.m. somebody identifying himself as Michael McCarthy entered the hospital and made his way to the third floor looking for Ms. Lancaster's room. At 11:05 somebody else identifying himself as Michael McCarthy entered the hospital looking for Ms. Lancaster, managing to elude hospital security and was spotted approaching from a different direction. And at 11:10 a third Michael McCarthy made his appearance and took hospital and Lancaster security on a merry chase.

At 11:20 a nurse wheeled a patient in an oxygen mask on a gurney into the Lancaster room. Lancaster security descended like a swarm of angry bees on the nurse, who apologized for the mistake. While she was doing that, I sat up, slipped off the oxygen mask, and placed the barrel of a Colt Python in the back of the nearest security man.

"If everybody is real calm, nobody has to get hurt. Get the hell away from my wife, Daniel."

He had been standing at her bedside. I saw her as I saw him. Her face was swathed in bandages, but that flaming red hair wasn't covered. Our eyes met and I saw surprise and shock, and something else.

"Deirdre, what's happening? Daniel tried to tell me you didn't want to see me. Talk to me. If your – face – got messed up in the accident, you know it doesn't matter. I love you."

Then I saw the tall man standing next to her and holding her hand. I'd never seen him in person, but I'd seen a picture of him from the days when he'd gotten a young girl pregnant. He had long hair down to his shoulders and a diamond stud in his left ear. He looked like a matinee idol or rock star, not an English tutor. And he was holding my wife's hand, while I'd had to con my way into her room. Something was wrong here.

"Gutman, you asshole, get your hands off my wife."

There were three security men, besides the one who had stiffened with the barrel of a Colt Python in his back. Daniel made a gesture and they closed in on me.

"Don't be stupid, Michael. You pull that trigger and you'll wind up in prison. Don't throw your life away."

"Okay, you're probably right."

I brought my knee up as hard as I could between the legs of the security man in front of me and pushed him down. The closer of the three men swung but I leaned over, caught his wrist, heaved him on top of the gurney and kicked it away. The gurney made it out the door with its unwilling passenger before I heard the sounds of machinery crashing into passersby.

The bigger of the security guys lunged at me, arms wide to grab me in a bear hug. Obviously he figured the safest way of getting me down for all of them to take a crack at was using the weight of his body to bring me down. I tried not to break his jaw but I whacked him pretty good with the butt of the Python.

I wheeled around and found the last security guy coming straight at me arm out like a running back. I feinted left and when he moved in that direction I got past him and had the Python barrel snug under Daniel's chin before any of the men after me could lay their hands on me. I didn't see but sensed everybody coming to a sudden halt.

"Don't, Michael," he said while holding his hands up and out in a silent command for everybody to avoid doing anything stupid.

"You keep everybody back and I won't do something crazy like blowing your brains out. But you never can tell, Daniel. You guys have been pushing and pushing and I feel like pushing back."

Everybody froze. After a moment I said, "You're not going to keep me away from my wife. I don't know why you're trying. I don't know how that asshole Gutman wound up in here."

"Maybe I can explain," came a voice from behind me. I looked back and saw a six-footer, slim and dressed stylishly, standing in the doorway. He wasn't in hospital dress or carrying a stethoscope but everything about him screamed out, 'doctor.' His hair was a silver gray without one hair out of place. On second thought he looked more like a Hollywood actor playing a doctor.

"I'd love to hear your explanation."

"I'm Dr. Mayfair, your wife's psychiatrist, Mr. McCarthy. Two nights ago she suffered a traumatic head injury when her car hit a power pole. The facial injuries probably won't be long lasting because she threw her hands up at the time of the collision when she smashed into the windshield. But she suffered a concussion and, we later learned, amnesia as well.

"Amnesia?"

"A particular type of amnesia. She knows who she is and most of her basic memories are intact. What she's lost are the last three years of her life up to and including the accident."

"Amnesia? Is this a bad Movie of the Week?"

"It's a very real phenomenon, Mr. McCarthy, regardless of how it's been portrayed in lots of bad movies."

"The last three years? So, she doesn't remember..."

"Anything about you, your marriage, your time together. The death of her father. That part of her life has been wiped away."

"But she remembers him," pointing to Gutman who was grinning at me.

"Yes, Mr. McCarthy. She remembers him as the person she loved in the last period she remembers. She called for him when consciousness returned and became very disturbed until he could be found and brought to the hospital."

I stared at her where she held his hand as if he were the only thing keeping her from being swept away in a storm.

"Okay. She forgot about me. But she's known me a lot longer than three years. And you must have told her that we've been married for two years."

"She doesn't remember you from the past. She was shown your picture and told what had happened. But...she didn't react well. You have to remember that she awoke to a world radically changed from the one she remembered. She became so agitated that I suggested that her staff wait at least a few days, maybe a week before allowing you to see her. To give her time to adjust to her new reality. Extreme agitation could actually cause the amnesia to worsen."

"Could you take that barrel out from under my chin," Daniel asked, touching the barrel very, very carefully. Then...

"I know you from the past few years, Michael. There was no way in hell you'd stay away if I'd told you that the doctor said to stay away from her until she was feeling better. It was heavy handed, but I thought if we tried to keep you stuck in Eastern Europe, it might give us some time to get her and you adjusted to what's happened."

He smiled at me.

"Stupid of me, I guess. I knew you were hard headed, but I forgot that you've been involved in dicey and illegal actions since you were a teen. It would be hard to pen you up, but I didn't think it would be impossible.

"Look, Michael, regardless of how pissed off at me you are right now, I hope you know I did this because the doctor said she needed time away from you to get better."

I kept the pistol where it was and turned back to Deirdre.

"Is all this true, Deirdre? You don't remember me and even thinking about me is causing you upset?"

"Yes, Mr. McCarthy. They told me we were married and showed me pictures, but it's not real. I don't remember you, remember getting involved with you. I don't know why I married you. You don't even appeal to me. I can't imagine your touching me, much less....."

She closed her eyes and her voice rose.

"Please, get him out of here..."

Mayfair said, "Get him out. Her blood pressure is spiking. We can't afford anything that might impact on her brain and nervous system. Now."

"We need to go," Daniel said.

"Okay. But Deirdre, they told me you didn't remember me at all after you woke up. Is that true?"

She opened her eyes.

"No. I have no memory of you at all."

I handed the Python to Daniel, butt-first and let the security men manhandle me out of the room. There were uniformed police waiting for me. Daniel motioned to them.

"This was just a little misunderstanding, gentlemen. There's no problem and I apologize for calling you out here."

When they had left, Daniel said, "I'm going to hold onto this," gesturing with the Python, "although I know you can come up with more. You're free to go, but if you return to the hospital, I will have you arrested for assault on my security personnel and trespassing. Don't come back to the Lancaster estate. You'll be escorted off. Your employment with Lancaster Oil is terminated. Your pay is terminated. I'm sure you'll land on your feet."

I shook his hand.

"I appreciate you not filing charges and letting me walk away. Let me know if there are any changes, or if her memory comes back."