Whispered Beginnings

Write Me

  Patrick Sipperly

  Jack set his travel bag down and closed the door to the rented condo. A few days away from the nine-to-five grind sounded good a hundred and fifty-one miles ago. But he was still the same Jack. Geography wouldn't change that.

  He hung his dress shirts in the closet then looked out the huge bay window. The iconic rusty-red rocks of Sedona stood tall in the sun. Another beautiful spring day in Arizona. The kind of day that makes a writer pick up a pen.

  “Nope,” Jack chuckled at himself. “Those days are long gone.”

  He flipped through a tourist magazine and decided on a medium-rare dinner at the Cowboy Club downtown. He found a comfortable spot at the bar and ordered a porter house steak dinner with a baked potato and Caesar salad. He visited the Silver Saddle Saloon afterward, but the music was a bit loud for his taste. He decided on a walk down the streets where other visitors strolled and shopped through windows.

  The sun left burnt edges to the sky when he returned to his room. From the balcony he saw stars looking down upon the streetlights that dotted the dark landscape.

  He stayed under a steamy shower until the water turned cool. He pondered the meaning of life as soapy water circled the drain then disappeared.

  He turned the lights off and slipped under the covers of the comfortable king bed. His eyes adjusted to the welcome darkness while the sounds of night seeped into the room. He rested his head on the pillow and wondered if sleep would come easily or if he'd need to take a pill again.

  He began his descent into the sweet abyss. Adrift on an ocean of onyx...

  A singular sound brought him back to the world. He listened to the room but kept his eyes closed. He was so close this time. He wasn't sure if he even brought his pills.

  Then he realized something was on the bed with him. He sank into terror. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes.

  She was a pale shadow leaning over him. The ambient light from outside made her features just visible. Then unmistakable.

  Jack remained frozen waiting for her to do something. His heart pounded in his ears.

  Her eyes moved back and forth staring into his, waiting for acknowledgment. Her lips parted to say something, then she stopped.

  Jack remained fixed upon the impossible figure of the young woman.

  “Remember me?” she whispered.

  He nodded his head slowly.

  “I want to live, Jack.”

  She rested her hand upon his chest.

  “Bring me to life, please?”

  Jack's heart beat more calmly. He looked around the room then back to the girl.

  “You're not real.”

  “I am real, Jack. I've heard you talk about me. You used to think about me all the time. Did you finally decide on my name? Was it Jessica or Jennifer?”

  “This can't be happening,” he said. “I don't write anymore.”

  “But you are a writer. I was going to be in your next book, and maybe the one after that. Don't you remember?”

  Jack sat up. “That was years ago, Jessica. Back when I was young and foolish and thought anything was possible. It was a crazy flight of fancy. Forget it.”

  “So I'm Jessica,” she said smiling. “I love it. Tell me more.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed waiting like a child begging to hear how the story ends. He looked at her golden hair and soft features through sad eyes. Too many years had passed. Too many life-draining years.

  “I was a writer. Now I'm not, Jess. I work with numbers now, not words. I tried. I just couldn't make it work.”

  “What can I do to help?” she asked.

  Jack shook his head.

  Jessica slid her hand under his and lifted it to her cheek. The silky feel of her skin against him made his heart ache.

  “You don't understand, honey.”

  “Please?” She leaned closer. “Please, let me live!”

  She was every bit as beautiful now as when he first imagined her years ago. Alluring brown eyes and long, wavy blonde hair. Whatever she wore was his favorite.

  She kept her eyes on him and tilted her head slightly. She guided his hand under her chin and down her neck.

  “What can I do for you?”

  She lowered his hand to her firm, round breast. Her eyes bore in to him. “What do you need, Jack?”

  Jack pulled his hand away. “This isn't you, Jessica. You're not my girl. You belong to someone else.”

  “I do? What's his name? What's he like?”

  “You know. You must have heard me talk about him too.”

  “Maybe I have. It's been so long.”

  Jack studied his visitor in the quietness, then he fell back to his pillow. The shadowy girl held to his hand with pleading eyes.

  He pulled the covers back for her.

  Jessica stood and lifted her hair back. Her blouse blurred into something shimmering and violet. She moved in close to him and pulled the covers around her. Jack wrapped his arms around her, caught in the scent of her hair and the feel of her slender frame against him.

  She laced her fingers between his.

  “Write me, Jack.”

  Hot tears flowed hard down his cheeks.

  The black ocean returned to claim him.

  Just after eight, Jack was at the window again pondering the new day over a Styrofoam cup of instant coffee. Puffy clouds filled the blue sky. He took a sip and sat down to his waiting laptop. Her touch still lingered on his fingers.

  Chapter 1

  Jessica stood near the water's edge waiting for the sun to rise...