Darkness Conjured Read Online Free PDF Page A

“I’ve been lonely, Meg.”
    He grabbed my hair and kissed me hard, running his hands over my body, making me
tingle all over.
    “There, there, pretty girl,” he said.
    He lifted my dress over my head, undid my bra and slid down my panties. He took
a step back. His eyes moved over my body. He smiled slowly and then pulled off
his shirt. Soft tufts of brown hair covered his chest. He had the look of
someone who worked out. I never got to ask if he frequented gyms all over the
country—or if he brought his own bar bells into musty hotels, sweating and lifting on a
hard cold floor.
    He put his hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me down on the blanket. He
slid down his jeans and then he covered me with his body. It wasn’t long before everything I knew slipped away. He was inside me, a stranger—a mystic who knew how to make my body feel things it hadn’t before.
    I’d done it with Alan Berle before he got drafted. We were both curious about sex.
I didn’t feel anything when he moved back and forth inside me. He used condoms. They
pinched. It was over quick and that was the extent of it.
    This was different. My body and Ken’s mingled like stars in a constellation. He introduced me to sensations hidden
in flesh—like an enchanted chest filled with all the wonders of the universe. He brought
me places I’d denied, kept secret all my life. Light and dark merged in one terrifying act.
     Ken’s wooden drummer dangled from his neck. Its eyes bore into mine and for a moment—a flash—it smiled at me with sharp pointed teeth. It drummed, slow and steady and the
sounds of birds, the lake and trees rustling mingled with Ken’s breathing. Sweat trickled from our pores, mixing together like a dark brew.
    I climaxed for the first time that day and a second time before Ken told me he
was going to explode.
    I felt his hot liquid in me, telling myself you don’t get pregnant for doing it once with a guy.
    “You come?” He asked me.
    I told him, “Yes.”
    “You’re really something, Meg. A card reader in New Orleans told me I’d meet a special chick. Must be you.”
    “Must be,” I said as he covered my mouth with his. I imagined a woman dressed in colorful
clothes, beads and earrings clicking as she turned over cards.
    “The woman’s always right.” He told me as he kissed my chin, my neck and then my breasts.
    Now a different image played out in my head; an old woman with a scarred face
sat at a table covered with a lace tablecloth. A solitary candle burned. Its
light illuminated her face.  A deck of cards lay by the candle. The woman picked up the cards and shuffled.
    A man stood before her. Shadow obscured him. He tossed a bundle of money on the
table.
    The woman stopped shuffling, counted the money and then handed him a card.  “Another deal and it goes on and on,” she said.
    The man leaned forward to accept the card and candlelight revealed his face.
    “My father,” I said softly.
    “What’s wrong?” Ken asked. “You zoning out on me, girl?”
    “No, just thinking.” I told myself it was guilt. I’d lied to my father. I took a deep breath and looked into Ken’s eyes.
    “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a while,” he whispered.
    Wasn’t long before he was inside me again. This time it lasted longer.
    He held me for a long time afterwards, not speaking, just kissing me, touching
me. I told myself I loved him and was comforted by the thought that each Friday
we’d be together. Why would it ever end?

    *     *     *

    Hot wind blew on my face as Ken’s truck rambled down the road. He held the wheel with one hand and took my hand
with the other.
    “I love the open road,” he told me. “Could never stay in one place. Don’t mean the right woman couldn’t share it with me.” He clutched my hand tighter.
    I didn’t answer. I imagined myself traveling through cities and towns with him, making
love in faraway motels and watching the sun rise at