by C.E. Staples
(12/25/02)
Two weeks in Boston, and Laurel decided the city's best feature was the sunlight. It seemed crisper and more translucent than the hazy
waterlogged light of Georgia. Her favorite moment of the day was when it flickered across the surface of the Charles River. Of course, she knew the city was more than light and shimmering waters. Light revealed shadows. Her shadow appeared at dusk on the shortest day of the year.
Snow fell. Laurel had never seen anything more beautiful as she sat on the back stoop of her apartment building. A hush covered the city as
people hurried home before the slush became ice. Entranced, she didn't see the man until he sat down beside her.
Her Southern upbringing kicked in. Instead of flinching, she smiled in welcome and scooted over to give his larger frame more room. He
blinked in surprise and then smiled.
"This is my favorite time of the year in Boston," he said softly. "The city feels so clean."
Laurel glanced at the concrete, broken bricks and shattered glass littering the neighborhood. Everything had a soft fuzzy covering. Everything
except the man. There was nothing soft about him at all. She had noticed him in the past, always in the evenings, strolling through the neighborhood. This evening, he wore a light canvas jacket that hung open revealing a tautly-muscled body straining against a flimsy cotton t-shirt. His faded blue jeans were bulging in all the right places.
"Indeed, a beautiful sight," Laurel murmured. The man shifted, his legs falling further apart. Laurel coughed.
"I don't see much snow where I'm from. In my homeland, snow is so rare that it is considered a gift from the gods. When the first flakes fall, members of the village gather to tell stories."
"Do tell," Laurel said, mesmerized by the movement of his lips.
"I haven't told the story in a long time," he admitted. He smiled broadly, revealing even white teeth. "You really want to hear this?"
"Oh, yes," Laurel replied earnestly.
"Well, once upon a time," he began. They both laughed. "Okay, really, once upon a time a god and a human fell in love. Not such a common
occurrence and rather disruptive in the grand scheme of the universe. But the Sky Goddess Ranara and her lover Korasse only cared about one another. They overcame every obstacle to their union. Finally, they were united in the Sky Goddess' domain, high in the heavens." He paused dramatically. "It is said that their lovemaking was so intense that stars were shaken from the sky. As they fell to earth, they cooled and transformed into flakes of snow."
Laurel stared at him. "That's a story told to children?"
"I've learned that most cultures are more open about sexuality than you Americans." He leaned back on his elbows. "I think just about every
other culture in the world tells stories of the gods and their human lovers."
"I see. Which one is your favorite?"
"My favorite is of the god who walks among humans," he said. "He searches for his soul mate, the person with whom he can be intimate in every way. The person who will complete him as an individual."
Laurel smiled at the idea of a man searching for a soul mate. Not in her world. "Does he find her?" she asked.
The man turned away slightly. "He still searches."
Laurel glanced around. The area was deserted.
"In what way would he be intimate with her?" she asked in a soft voice.
He turned to her. Somehow the physical distance between them diminished. She sat still as he slipped a large weathered hand inside her jacket
and between the buttons of her sweater. She wore no bra beneath.
"There is physical intimacy," he acknowledged as he cupped her breast. "As an immortal, he has had millennia to learn how to pleasure women. For instance, he knows a hundred ways to stimulate a woman's breasts until she orgasms."
"A hundred ways?" Laurel repeated in a strangled voice. "Is that all?"
In response, he rolled her nipple between thumb and forefinger. Her stomach spasmed. Biting her lip she buried her head against his shoulder. His head lowered until his mouth brushed her ear.
"No, that's not all," he whispered, his voice thick. "Shall I show you what he could do with his mouth?"
She raised her head in invitation. The roughness of his lips and unshaven cheeks bruised her skin. He opened her coat wider and slipped a hand beneath the waistband of her pants.
"Please," she said, unclear of what she begged. He knew.
It took five minutes to walk upstairs to her apartment. By the time she locked the front door, her knees were so wobbly, he had to pick her up.
Unerringly, he guided them to the small bedroom. She had left the window open. It faced the river. She watched the moonlight glisten on the
ebony surface as he slowly undressed her, sharing how the Sky Goddess had fucked her human lover senseless.
"And what did he do to her?" she asked breathlessly, as she watched him shed his clothing.
The bed dipped precariously as he straddled her. "Let me show you."
A couple of hours before dawn, he rose from bed. She held onto his hand. "Please stay. We can have breakfast by the water. The light is
beautiful in the morning."
He hesitated. "You like the light, don't you?" he asked. "What do you like about it?"
She thought a moment. "I like the way it dances on the water. And the way it reveals magic in the most mundane objects. Like a blade of grass or a child's marble."
He stared at her. "Perhaps that is why I am drawn to you," he said thoughtfully. "I have always searched the darkness, but my answer lay
in the light."
Laurel frowned. "What are you talking about?"
He lay back down, pulling her into his arms. "What would you do without the light?" he murmured against her ear.
It was hard to think with him so close. "Die, I suppose," she answered, half-jokingly. He stopped nibbling her ear.
"I see," he whispered.
When he made love to her this time, he kept his head lowered. For the first time that night, Laurel felt that he was taking, not giving. She
wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him fast as he rocked against her body. Later, when he wept, she held him tighter.
He didn't look back as he walked out the door. The next night, as she sat on the stoop watching sunlight shine through snowflakes, she thought of his shadow.
