Milo ...Dreams

        By Pattie Lawler

 

 

The instant she registered her location, the sand beneath her gave way. Screaming, her arms wind-milling, Albany began to slide down the dune face, her body sinking into the orange cascade.

            A leather encased hand clamped onto her wrist and jerked her to a stop.

            “I’ve got you!”

            Twisting hard, her free hand caught his arm. “Milo!”

            “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He groaned as he pulled, but she steadily rose until she was able to crawl away from the edge.

            “We must be seventy stories up,” he said, panting.

            “It would have been a hellish slide, that’s for sure.” She rose, brushing herself off as she looked up. “Thank you.”

            He was gone.

            Spinning in place, Albany scanned the dune top, confirming she was indeed alone. In the distance, she saw a dark spot; the only anomaly in an orange and blue world.

            Based on their two previous experiences, Albany took a step toward the speck, expecting to arrive at her destination and was rewarded with an inrush of sand in her shoe.

            “Oh, now that’s just not fair!”

 <0>

From where he stood, Milo could see Albany across the dance floor at the two o’clock position and Somnia at ten o’clock. Every attempt to cross to either was met with an inability to move a muscle, including those in his throat.

            Fanny, not bound by whatever held Milo, was in the arms of her dream uncle, and the waltzing couple was happily twirling the length of the room. Fanny appeared older, more developed, and was dressed in a daring scarlet lace gown that allowed far too much of her curvaceous figure to be seen. There was no music that he could hear, but the couple didn’t seem to notice, or care. Milo was convinced that they were equally unaware of their audience.

            The lights dimmed and the dancers slowed. The dream Milo drew Fanny closer and they paused directly before him. Speechless, Milo watched as his counterparts eyes drew darker and focused on Fanny’s lips. Fanny too was watching, and she tiled her head, leaning closer.

            Milo ground his teeth. “Somnia!” He locked eyes with the Greek deity, willing her to hear him while avoiding what he hoped was not happening on the dance floor.

            Somnia nodded once and Milo was free. He reached for Fanny and found himself back in the tree house.

<0> 

            Albany paused to pour the sand from her shoes, decided it wasn’t worth fighting Mother Nature any more, and carried them as she set off again.

            “Why couldn’t it be one of those flying dreams?”

            She had concluded, since she had only herself to consult, that it was Somnia that had actually moved them along in the dream, and without her influence, Albany was left to all the indignities of a long walk.

            So she sang to pass the time, picking songs Fanny was likely to know. And when Fanny caught her suddenly empty hand, matching her pace, she wasn’t surprised. They walked on until the aria was complete, and Albany squeezed Fanny’s hand, allowing her affection to show in the smile she bestowed on the younger woman.

            “Fanny, are you all right?”

            “Hmm?”

            “Your uncle and I are worried.”

            Fanny paused, and Albany stopped, turning to face her. And they were in a bedroom. Albany didn’t risk looking around but focused her attention on the withdrawn Fanny.

            The door off to the right opened, and an unknown young man, of about Fanny’s age, entered, surveyed the room without looking at the couple and left. The click of the door closing snapped Fanny out of her stupor. She looked up enough for Albany to see her cheeks were stained with a rising blush.

            “Uncle Milo’s not worried,” Fanny whispered. “He’s angry.”

            “Angry at you?”

            Fanny nodded.

            “Why would he be angry at you, Fanny? He loves you.”

            “He found out...” She looked away. “He never yells at me. But this time he did. A lot. He said he blamed himself for not being a better teacher, for not setting a better example.”

            “He thought that what you did was so terrible?”

            Fanny nodded again, sniffing.

            “Was it?”

            She started crying in earnest, and Albany wrapped an arm across her shoulder, drawing her to the bed. Together, they lay down, and Fanny continued to cry as Albany held her. Time passed, and the walls darkened to black, as if night were descending upon the room. Finally, the walls disappeared altogether, and the bed became an island in a starless sky. Then off to the side Albany saw herself seated at the piano in Owswell Mangum as Milo held her hands, kissing her deeply.

            Albany frowned at the apparition. The angle was strange. She was seeing the couple as if standing some distance off and to their right. But her examination of this event ceased with the realization that it wasn’t an isolated incident. The bed was surrounded by dozens of ghostly images of herself and Milo making love.

            And she understood.

            Somehow, Milo had discovered that Fanny was spying on them.

            For herself, Albany didn’t care beyond the initial shock. Being on stage meant an elevated degree of exhibitionism that was either naturally occurring or developed out of necessity. But Milo—with his feelings of inferiority in this particular arena… Her heart tightened to a fist when she considered the emotional roller coaster he had to be strapped into. She forced worse case scenario from her mind and hugged Fanny harder.

            “So he yelled at you.”

            She nodded.

            “And you went into the library where the bottle was and filled it with water.”

            “I wanted to hurt him like he hurt me.”

            “Fanny. He hurt you by yelling at you once. You hurt him by repeatedly not respecting his privacy. Was that fair? And think. Can you imagine how embarrassed you would be if your uncle walked into your bathroom while you were in the shower? Or worse, if he spied on you while you masturbated?” Fanny struggled in her arms, desperate to get away, but Albany held on. “Listen to me, please, Fanny! Just listen!”

            But Fanny was gone, and Albany screamed, throwing herself away from the Fanny-sized cobra in her arms.

            Rolling for the edge of the bed, her eyes on the massive snake, she watched as it reared back to strike. Screaming, she tried to throw herself forward, but didn’t move. The needle-like fangs sank into her neck and shoulder, stopping only when they encountered bone.

            Albany jerked awake.

            “Miss Wendel,” Simon said, catching her hand as she flailed. “You’re alright. You’re alright.”

            “Simon!” The instance of shock and fear passed, and she slumped into the pillow. “Oh, Simon.”

            “Rough time?”

            She nodded. “Fanny became a huge snake that bit my neck.”

            “Yeah, I get those dreams, too.”

            Laughing with relief, she glanced at a still sleeping Milo. “Let’s just hope his nerves are better than mine.”

            “Meaning you’re not going to try again.”

            Shaking her head, she sighed. “I couldn’t. Not without Somnia, who I assume is with Milo.” She looked around and then back to Simon. “Any chance of you sliding me out from under him? After that little shock, I’m pretty close to messing the sheets.”

            “If you don’t mind me being friendly.” He grabbed her ankles and gently pulled.

<0>

            Milo approached the pipe organ and the person playing. It clearly wasn’t Fanny, but from the back, he couldn’t decide who it was.

            As he drew closer, the tree house became a cathedral and he was mounting the spiral stone stairs to the organ. He knew now that it was Gilbert, Fanny’s current crush, at the keyboard, and he knew he had a question to ask the young man.

            He cast a quick look around as he went. “Somnia?” But received no reply.

            The realization that he was alone was chilling, and he fervently hoped that the AWOL deity was with Albany.

            Above him, Gilbert started playing a wedding march just as Milo arrived on the platform. He looked out over the scene below and saw a bride, dressed in a scarlet wedding gown with a large, black M embroidered on the lengthy train, slowly processing up the aisle. The Marie Callas crown he had bought for Albany was on her head, and Milo smiled, guessing the bride to be none other than Albany herself. Looking to the altar for a sight of himself, he squinted. The cathedral seemed to stretch for miles. Albany’s destination was lost in the haze of distance.

            With a glance over his shoulder to make sure that Gilbert was watching, Milo climbed onto the stone banister.

            “Fanny! I’m going to jump!”

            He didn’t wait for a reply. Bending his knees, he pushed off into the cold air. For a second, he was suspended over the center aisle, and then he plummeted.

Below him, Albany looked up, and it wasn’t Albany. It was Fanny. With a cry of alarm, she put her arms up as if to catch him.

            Suddenly, Somnia was at his side. She caught his hand, and the whistling wind was gone. Together, they gently touched down before Fanny, who launched herself into Milo’s arms.

            Throwing his arms around her, he dropped to his knees with relief to feel her, solid and warm.

            “Fanny. My Fanny.” He crushed her to his chest.                                                     

<0> 

            Simon pointed to the monitors. “I think we’re good.”

            Albany didn’t see what he did, but was happy to trust. “Will Somnia release him when the coast is clear?”

            He shrugged. “I’ve never met her. I have no way of knowing.”

            “The answer is yes,” Milo said, sitting up.

            Albany gasped, and she and Simon hurried to Milo’s bed.

            Simon reached for the finger monitor while holding out a glove. Once free of the clamp, Milo took the glove and slipped it on as he swung his legs off the bed.

“You all right, boss?”

            “Perfectly fine. I’m sure Fanny is simply asleep, and we’ll leave her here, under your care, Simon, until she’s fit to go home.”

            Albany glanced at Simon for confirmation, reading in Milo’s tone that he was still unhappy. The bodyguard gave nothing away as he nodded.

            “We’re going to the penthouse,” Milo continued. “I’ll have dinner sent over and look for you when you arrive.”

            Simon nodded again, but Milo barely acknowledged him as he passed, his hand on the door, holding it for Albany.

 <0> 

            Milo had walked into the master suite but gone only as far as the wall beside the door. As Albany entered, he was in the process of sliding down into a crouched position. She knelt before him, waiting. He wrapped his arms around his knees and bowed his head.

            Albany understood, but wouldn’t have admitted to knowing what he was feeling. Fanny had shaved several years off her life, and she had known Fanny for less than four months. What Milo was experiencing, she couldn’t begin to fathom.

            He mumbled something.

            “Milo?” She reached for him, ready to offer comfort.

            He jerked up with surprising energy and caught her wrist. Launching forward, he pushed her flat on her back before she had a chance to react. His free hand frantically pulled her skirt up, desperate, it seemed, to expose what lay beneath. Sympathy made her assist, raising the material to her waist as he unbuttoned his pants.

            Fear and rage darkened his face as he stared down at her, but Albany could see his hollow eyes weren’t seeing her at all. He was lost in a realm of his creation and had no idea what he was doing. He thrust into her with violence unknown to their relationship, howling like an animal as he did. Passively, she accepted his onslaught, clamping her jaw against any miscommunication as she gave him the comfort he desired.

            The storm was intense but brief. Two minutes later, he screamed with release and dropped, becoming dead weight across her. Her arms naturally rose to his heaving shoulders, and she felt him trembling as rage dissolved into tears of misery that dampened her neck. Minutes passed, punctuated by his soft sobbing.

            “I’m sorry, Albany. I’m so sorry.”

            “Milo,” she softly chided. “If you look at me, you’ll see I’m smiling. Please don’t apologize, it’ll only hurt me.”

            He hugged her. “I don’t ever want to hurt you!”

            “Then know that I’m so happy, my love, that I was here for you.”

            “But—”

            “No buts. I love you, no matter what.” She began kissing what parts of him she could reach. “I’m so happy, Milo, truly. I want to be everything to you. To be the one you can cry to.” She continued to verbally make love to him until his crying ceased and then tried to tease him into a better mood. “Do you remember the night we slept together before the fireplace? When I told you to get off me because I couldn’t breathe?”

            He nodded.

            “I lied. It was your proximity that took my breath, just like now. Just like every time you’re near me.” She tried to roll him over, and he hastened to help. When he was flat on his back, she sat up, straddling his hips. Crossing her arms to catch the bottom of her sweater, she pulled it off over her head. “Now it’s my turn.”

<0> 

            “Did you speak to Fanny?”

            Albany nodded from her place against his neck.

            “Do you know she was watching us make love last night?”

            The realization that he thought it was an isolated incident made her weak, and she nodded again.

            “I’m going to give her a choice. She starts high school this autumn, and she can pick one, in either country, but she’s going to a proper school. Period.”

            “If you think that’s best.”

            He shifted and looked down at her. “You don’t?”

            “I think you’re still reacting with anger, Milo. You have to consider her age, your feelings, and mine, on the subject…your relationship to her. Really Milo, if she were a boy, would we even be having this conversation?” She kissed his chest. “September is six months away. Plenty of time to consider. You don’t have to make a decision tonight.”

            He nodded, hugging her tighter.

            “We have to lock the door, is all,” she concluded. “And the living room is off-limits when she’s here.”

            Smiling, he rolled her over. “And the library.”

            “And the kitchen.”

            “But not the car.”

            “Then we just have to worry about Simon.”

 

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