Seithe (10 page)

Experiencing anger. Thrusting the covers away, feeling feverish. I'm completely awake now. I flick on the green copper lamp and probe the creepy dim corners with sensitive eyes. I patter out of my bedroom to get water from the fridge; the tiles are therapeutic after the heat of my need consumed me.

The white tiles are littered with speckles of moonlight, forcing my bare feet to seem deathly pale. I stare at pink nail polish on my toes, examining them without seeing them. Thinking deeply about how lucid that dream was. A psychic connection so strong. Absently I flick long dark hair behind my shoulder and pad silently back to the waiting futon and MacBook.

Flopping back across the rumpled hunter green linen of the bed, I yank the laptop toward myself in simmering rage. Activating it, I wait for my email to load. The glare is harsh emanating from the screen. Like a brat in the throws of a tantrum I begin beating my hands into the closest pillow.

"What have you done to me!"

If I wasn't so angry I'd laugh at myself. Yelling into an empty home. At what point did I lose my sanity?

I scroll down to find his email when his scent wafts over me with overpowering intensity. Snapping my head up I inhale deeply. I jump up and sniff, following the sirocco scent out of the room until I lose it. With weird paranoia I even look up to examine the ceiling. Lazy lights reflect off the ceiling from a passing security vehicle. Passing slowly like a stalker trying to be unobtrusive. Ghostly breath shivers down my spine.

"Seithe, are you here?"

Silence.

"Coward!"

I spin, I'm in the fun-house trying to see through mirrors. "Face me! Come on! Deal with the monster you've created!"

Nothing.
Am I losing it?

My mouth tightens with fierce determination. I pounce on my computer like a woman on a mission for shithead annihilation. I click on his email and activate reply.

PhoebeMartin:
What did you want?

Send

Chime: RevengeOfTheSeithe:

Good evening beautiful. What did I want? You. All of you.

Frenetic fingers type back...

PhoebeMartin:
You were here! I know you were!

Send

Chime: RevengeOfTheSeithe:

You are simply projecting your desires into your reality. It's called manifestation.

PhoebeMartin:
UP YOURS! DON'T PATRONISE ME!

Send

Chime: RevengeOfTheSeithe:

You are still angry my petal. I knew I shouldn't have let you go until you had worked through the experience.

PhoebeMartin: AIM NOW!

Send

Chime: RevengeOfTheSeithe:

As you wish.

With simmering impatience I launch my AOL Instant Messenger. I do a search for his email. Click on friend request.

Ding!

SEITHER: Good evening precious. I see you are experiencing some anger issues now.

PHOEBESMILES: YOU WERE HERE!

SEITHER: Was I now?

PHOEBESMILES: YES!

SEITHER:
I do love your fiery spirit.

PHOEBESMILES: Go get fucked!

SEITHER: Nothing I say seems to matter. So then accuse me and be done with it.

I stare at those words, processing them again and again. Swallowing heavily I snatch up my bottle of water. Suddenly so parched. I sip absently, almost ready to reply when I taste the allspice. Its distinctive tang is so strong I am beyond doubt.

PHOEBESMILES: INSTINCT ASSHOLE! You told me to trust it! And it's telling me YOU WERE HERE!

SEITHER: Explain how I am home to answer your emails and there?

PHOEBESMILES: I can't.

SEITHER: Permission to laugh?

PHOEBESMILES: You fuck with my head!

SEITHER: You have it all wrong. You're supposed to be fucking with mine.

PHOEBESMILES:
ASS!

I hate that I'm now smiling. I'm angry with him. Very! But he still manages to get me to smile.

PHOEBESMILES: What do you do?

SEITHER: I'm a head fucker apparently.

PHOEBESMILES: I mean for a living...

SEITHER: Aah! I'm a professional hacker.

PHOEBESMILES: NO FUCKING WAY!

SEITHER: Big corporations pay big money to have me test their firewalls and software. I get paid to enter the back door.

PHOEBESMILES: So you work from home?

SEITHER: Yes.

PHOEBESMILES: How did you get into that?

SEITHER: I have an innate gift for code.

I stare at the words, tapping my finger undecided. Sucking my bottom lip in, considering if this guy is legit or not.

SEITHER: You aren't the first to doubt me. Would you like me to hack your computer and prove it?

Wicked challenging grin.

PHOEBESMILES: Yes!

I wait a little while.

SEITHER: Who's Brian? What a dick!

Blood drains out of hot cheeks, my focus wavers.

PHOEBESMILES: My ex.

SEITHER: When did he become your ex? The night I met you?

I nod like an idiot. Why am I feeling embarrassed?

PHOEBESMILES: Yes.

SEITHER: No wonder you were so pissed off with men that night.

PHOEBESMILES: I'm pissed off with you too.

SEITHER: Want to get it out of your system?

PHOEBESMILES: I don't trust you! Next time you might feed me to the sharks.

SEITHER: I am laughing here. Phoebe baby, what if I promise to get your permission next time?

PHOEBESMILES: You won't. You're just trying to lure me back so you can murder me and mount me to your wall.

SEITHER: Hmm. I like the mounting to the wall idea.

PHOEBESMILES: HA HA. Very Funny!

SEITHER: Oooh my darling sarcastic spitfire. I am so relieved you're back to your confrontational self.

PHOEBESMILES: Answer me truthfully...

SEITHER: Anything

PHOEBESMILES: Did you drug me with that purple shit?

SEITHER: No. It takes time to get used to it. It's a strong sedative if you've never been exposed to it before. When you get accustomed to it, it has the opposite effect.

PHOEBESMILES: Why me?

SEITHER: Why not you?

PHOEBESMILES: I'm too tired for games.

SEITHER: Then go to sleep.

PHOEBESMILES: Were you here?

SEITHER: I will be if you want me to be.

Now that's a trick question. Tap, tap, tap nail.

PHOEBESMILES: I hate you.

SEITHER: Wow, nice one.

PHOEBESMILES: I can't get you out of my head.

SEITHER: Good. Now get some rest. You are going to need it if I'm expected to mount you to the wall.

PHOEBESMILES: You are such a tease!

SEITHER: I have some things to expose you to first. So when am I going to get your slender legs back in my pad so I can get to the mounting part?

PHOEBESMILES: Will you let me hurt you?

SEITHER: You can try.

PHOEBESMILES: Without fighting back with fucking pressure points!

SEITHER: There are fucking - pressure points? I do love experimentation. Will you teach me those?

Laughter bursts out of me.

PHOEBESMILES: Why are you so bloody irresistible?

SEITHER: God made me that way.

PHOEBESMILES: I have work tomorrow.

SEITHER: And after work?

PHOEBESMILES: Maybe. I'll have to think about it.

SEITHER: You know how to find me. I'm almost always here.

PHOEBESMILES: Okay.

SEITHER: Good night minxy.

PHOEBESMILES: Good night.

I am unaware that I'm smiling indulgently as I close the programs and switch my phone and laptop off. Oddly content, I burrow back under the covers, slipping unresisting into REM.

Chapter 14: Day

It's pouring with rain, yet again! Late spring is always weather-moody like this in Cape Town. Huffing with displeasure, I take the elevator up to the fourteenth floor where I work as executive personal assistant, absently trailing my dripping brolly behind me so I don't get my shoes wet. It's like playing Froggo out there, avoiding puddles.

Work is situated just off Western Boulevard in a new office complex adjacent to the V&A Waterfront. Our unit overlooks the cosmopolitan hubbub of the waterfront, the harbour with cargo carriers and luxury yachts; and on the other side, gives a great view of Table Mountain. All depending on where you are in the building.

I spend far too many lunch hours perusing the stores at the Waterfront. I'm totally addicted to the flea market, and find the nearby Two Oceans Aquarium a serene place to de-stress on hectic days.

Smiling now, this reminds me of the amazing sunfish they had a while back. Such an unusual specimen. A bit like Seithe, simply unique and a one of a kind creation, probably one of God's better creation moments. It goes without saying that I eat fish and chips for lunch frequently. Sometimes I glimpse the excitement of the sea rescue team leaving the waterfront to rescue someone in distress.

I leave my umbrella in the deliberately placed container inside the reception doors before clicking my way over black marble tiles to my desk. I've taken a lot of time to cover the hickeys with make-up. Pressing my black skirted derriere into the typist's chair, I drop my bag into a drawer, switch on my Apple Macintosh, then absently stand in black suede heels, smoothing my white blouse in the process.

Coffee. Stat!

As I'm pouring strong black coffee into my *I hate Mondays* mug, Bella walks in. For the ignorant, that would be the boss I answer to.

"Rough weekend, Phoebe?"

Lordy, is it that obvious?

"You could say that."

"Want to share?"

I observe her putting in four sugars. Yuck.