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Authors: S. Suzanne Martin

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BOOK: The Nightmare Game
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Why was this inner upset occurring in the first
place? I could sense that Robert meant no harm. Why were his attentions now causing
my amnesia to become such an issue when it hadn’t bothered me in the slightest
only moments before? It was almost as if his flirtations were acting as a
catalyst, forcing me to ask questions that I wasn’t yet ready to ask, questions
whose answers steadfastly remained hidden. My mind now began to pick at the
lost memories like a scab. For the first time since my arrival, I felt they
might contain something within them that was important. While all else remained
hidden, one question was so universal, so obvious, that it immediately sprang
to mind and that question was whether or not I was even free to accept Robert’s
advances. If my heart was already taken, it was something I would definitely
want to remember before becoming involved with another man. I tried hard to
think, to dredge the answer from the blank abyss of memory, but with no
success. Any further investigation of these thoughts, however, was too soon
interrupted.

“Oh, Ben,” cooed one of the three dark beauties,
the one who always spoke first. “Why don’t you two join us?”

“Yes, do,” said the second. “Please, join us.”

“We’d adore it ever so much if you did,” added the
third.

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit,” I excused myself.

“Silly,” said the first. “You don’t need a bathing
suit here.”

“We never wear anything when we swim or tub,”
informed the second, drawing attention to that which the reflection upon the
water’s surface had hidden.

“It’s so much more fun to skinny dip,” remarked
the last. “Don’t you think?

“Ladies, we would love to join you,” Ben answered
with diplomacy, “but we haven’t finished our tour of the estate yet and I need
to get Ashley settled in a little more if we want her to stay with us. So we’ve
got to get going now.”

“I hate to see you leave so soon, Ashley,” Robert
added. “Perhaps later?”

“I really don’t know how long we’ll be,” I begged
off, a little flustered.

“Maybe tomorrow, then?” he persisted.

“I don’t know,” I answered, feeling the discomfort
of absent memory scraping against my mind once more. “Maybe.”

After saying our final good-byes, we set off down
the path and returned to the fountain.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

 

We turned left at the fountain and onto the
central outward bound walkway. As we strolled along, Ben said softly, “I didn’t
want to say anything within earshot of the others because I don’t want to jinx
it, but it seems that you already have an admirer. Robert fancies you quite a
bit.”

“I noticed. He certainly is a fascinating
character. Tell me, is he really a nice guy or does he just spread his charm
around to all the ladies?”

Ben chuckled, “A little of both, actually, but I
can tell you that his interest in you in genuine.”

“Why? I’m not beautiful by this group’s standards,
not by a long shot. Besides, he doesn’t even know me yet.”

“Robert’s an incurable romantic and he’s lonely
for real love. You see, Arrosha promised to send him Miss Right, so naturally,
when you showed up, he assumed it was you.”

“Okay, I guess that makes some kind of weird
sense. Now, don’t get me wrong, Ben, I think Robert’s cute, but why is he so
overly romantic? I might not remember much, but I do remember that the only
straight guys I’ve met that seemed that romantic on the surface were all
womanizers.”

“Boy, were you ever dating the wrong men.”

“Oh, you’ve read my diary? Tell me about it.”

He chuckled. “First of all, congratulations on the
new memory.”

“Thanks. I think it was exposure to Robert that
dredged it up.”

“And secondly, let me put your fears to rest.
Robert’s the real deal. He is the way he is because before coming to live with
us, he had absolutely no real-life experience with romance whatsoever. His
entire frame of reference comes solely from old movie vaults and it’s an
ideology so completely ingrained in him that I doubt he will ever lose it. At
least I hope not, since I’m such a sucker for romance myself.”

“So he’s not a womanizer at all?”

“Of his own volition, no. But like the rest of us,
he knows that serious outside relationships are forbidden. Until Arrosha brings
in a suitable mate for him, he’s forced to keep his contacts with women casual.
For a little while, he enjoyed playing the field in the outside world. It was
good for him, it gave him confidence. But when push comes to shove, Robert’s
not a frivolous man. He’s been hoping for some time now that every next addition
to our group would be a woman. When the sisters arrived, he thought that one of
them might be interested in him, but it was not to be. Separating those three
is impossible.”

“Are they really sisters?” I asked, shocked
because their behavior suggested otherwise.

“Not at all,” Ben laughed. “Geoffrey started
calling them that and it just sort of caught on. I guess it’s because they
stick together so much. Their interest in Robert or any one else is entirely
superficial. They’re really just interested in each other, although they seem
to have bonded somewhat with Geoffrey.”

“Geoffrey?” I asked, shocked. “I thought he was
your, I mean, I thought he was gay.”

Ben laughed. “No, my dear,
I’m
gay. Geoffrey is just Geoffrey. He defies
description. Oh, he’s never had an actual relationship with a woman. But on a
purely physical level, Geoffrey is a man of extremely broad and varied tastes.”

“I still can’t understand why that doesn’t bother
you.”

“If we could form relationships outside of the
group, it would bother me if he showed too much interest in another man,
because that could possibly get serious.”

“Are there any other gay men in the group?”

“Thank goodness, no. It’s one of the reasons that
I’m able to trust Geoffrey as much as I do.”

“Kenny and Antonio aren’t?”

“Oh, heavens no. They’re very good friends, but
certainly not gay. They may have no real interest in girlfriends, at least for
now, but that’s because they’re still into casual flings, getting their sea
legs, in a manner of speaking. No, Arrosha promised me a long time ago that she
wouldn’t tempt Geoff with another gay man in the group. She understands the
attachment our little Geoffrey has to his own incorrigibility. Geoffrey’s not
perfect, I’ve never fooled myself into thinking that. I see him as he is but I
love him anyway. I suppose Geoffrey’s nature reveals a weakness of my own as
well, since I tend to find his naughtiness somewhat entertaining as long as it
doesn’t threaten our relationship. So you see, his special friendship with the
sisters has never bothered me in the least. His interest in women never does.
It’s always frivolous and never emotional. It’s always just sex. But enough
about Geoffrey for now. Let’s get back to Robert. You know how he feels about
you; how do you feel about him?”

“I have to admit it’s flattering that such a
handsome guy is showing so much interest in me, but I’m just getting settled in
around here. I don’t know him well enough even to have an opinion yet.”

“That’s fair. What’s your first impression of him,
then?”

“I like him a lot, but Ben, I have to tell you
that his attentions are stirring things up in my mind. For some strange reason,
just being around him starts to irritate my memory loss.”

“Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

“It would be if it worked, but it doesn’t. You
know that the amnesia didn’t really bother me before, but whenever I’m around
Robert, for some reason it starts to pester me big time. It’s uncomfortable and
it’s just plain frustrating. It happened a little this morning by the elevator
and a lot more just now by the pool. Once I’m away from him, as long as I don’t
dwell on it, it starts to go away and I can relax again.”

“Any clue why this is happening? Any important
memories coming back at all?”

“Not really. What I get are not really memories,
they’re hard to describe. They’re more like echoes, like some kind of
impressions of feelings; but they’re buried way too deep for me to get to. They
keep grating against the back of my mind trying to get out, but they can’t.
Ben, you know that feeling that you get when something’s on the tip of your
tongue but no matter how hard you try, you just can’t retrieve it?”

“Sure.”

“And you know how irritating that can be, like it
could drive you nuts sometimes? Well, it’s like that with me, but it’s about
everything, about my whole life before I got here. It only happens when I’m
around Robert and then it’s not enough actually to bring anything back. It’s
just enough to be disturbing.”

“Do you want me to tell him to back off?”

“I’d like you to ask him to slow down, at least
until my memory returns. I like Robert and under any other circumstances, I’d
jump at a chance to be with a guy like him. But Ben, if there’s one thing I’m
picking up from this, it’s that I don’t think I’m unattached. I can’t shake a
nagging suspicion that there’s somebody else in my life, somebody back home
waiting for me. I can’t remember who he is or what he is to me, but there is
somebody. I can feel it. I wish I could remember more but I can’t. It’s right
on the edge of my memory, like an itch I just can’t reach to scratch.”

“Ashley, if it winds up that here is someone else
in your life, do you think it would be serious?”

“It would have to be. If he weren’t someone very
important to me, I can’t imagine that it would bother me so much.”

“So it is a ‘he’?”

“I get that feeling, yes. As a matter of fact,
that’s the clearest feeling that I can access.”

“Hmm,” Ben considered. “This could complicate
things. I don’t know how Arrosha is going to deal with that. She could possibly
bring him in to join us, like she did with Geoff and I. Then I guess that
Robert’s just going to have to wait a little longer for a girlfriend. Before we
go down that road, though, do you think that these feelings could possibly be
associated with a relationship that recently ended?”

“Considering the complete lack of information that
I’m working with these days, anything is possible. If I could only remember…” I
was beginning to get very frustrated.

“Okay, calm down and just let it go again for now;
it’ll come back when you least expect it. I’ll tell Robert the situation. He
deserves to know. He’ll be very disappointed if you are otherwise attached, but
I’m sure that Arrosha will send him someone else. If it winds up that your
involvement is no longer an issue, though, whenever you’re ready, I do hope
that you consider Robert. I’m not trying to push you or play matchmaker, I just
want to tell you that he’s a great guy.”

“I do really like him. He seems very sweet.”

“He is. The man’s a prince. He’s as loyal as they
come and he’s really funny, too, once you get to know him. But he is long
overdue a real girlfriend. He’s never had one before in his entire life.”

“You have got to be kidding. A gorgeous man like
that? I can’t believe it.”

“He didn’t always look like he does now. None of
us did. I’m sure you can relate better today because you can tell the vast
improvements in yourself from only yesterday. The change is even more extreme
when Arrosha transforms a person.”

There was that word again, “transform”. Ben had
promised me an explanation of it today. I wanted to question him about it, but
before I could, he said, “We’re coming up to the reflecting pool. It’s the last
thing I want to show you today before we head back. Then we can sit down and
talk some more.”

Despite my curiosity, I figured that I could wait
just a little while longer to hear his tale.

 

It took about another minute for us to reach the
next break in the hedges that signaled the arrival at our destination, a pass
this time guarded by a pair of twin Greek stone warriors. Once past them, the
path upon which we walked widened into a small road as the scenery changed once
again, this time not to the tropical paradise of the sports court or water
park, but to a terrain that was distinctly Mediterranean. A raised platform
stood at the very end of the road, lined by tall cedars planted in neat rows
against a backdrop of softly rolling hills that faded into the background as
far as the eye could see. The platform, a roofless, rectangular court bordered
by Doric columns about every twenty feet or so, was, with the exception of its
very newness, quite reminiscent of the ruins of an ancient Greek temple.

Ben and I walked up the short steps leading onto
the platform which contained a large, long reflecting pool sunken into its
floor and that was filled with the blackest water I’d ever seen. Stone benches
set back at a respectful distance surrounded the pool on three sides, while on
the fourth side, presiding over the pool at its head at the far end sat a regal
onyx sphinx set upon a base. Everything contained within the pool’s periphery
was reflected back by the water’s dark surface, a mirror-like finish broken up
by only a few floating lily pads.

Ben, who had been silent since the gap in the
hedges, now said with great reverence in his voice, “This is the most sacred
place on the grounds, second only to the Temple of Arrosha within the mansion
itself. I suppose you could think of it as our garden chapel. Our highest holy
days to the one true Goddess are observed in the conservatory temple itself,
but the Days of Observation, our secondary holy days, are always held out here.
It’s also where the transformation ceremony for new members is held. Isn’t it
beautiful? It’s so peaceful here that I often come alone to this spot to
meditate.”

With his words, I became suddenly uncomfortable.
While I really liked it here and was earnestly considering remaining,
contingent, of course, upon my memory’s return, comments such as these served
only to remind me of the true nature of this group. I could not, despite Ben’s
protest to the contrary, help but have the opinion that when push came to
shove, I would not be allowed to join them without first converting to their
religion. This notion bothered me tremendously and I couldn’t shake the feeling
that doing so would be profoundly wrong. While it was true that I’d seen, and
even experienced first-hand, several wonders that could actually be classified
as miracles, there was something still holding me back and I had no idea what
it could possibly be. Was it possible that before my arrival here, I had been a
particularly religious person? I didn’t know. I didn’t even have a clue. Why
couldn’t I remember? While Robert’s attentions had awakened in me a new desire
to find out who I was, it still remained only that, a desire. Somewhere within
my memory, there must surely be buried a hint as to why was I even here. Of all
people, why had Arrosha chosen me to pull into her tightly-knit little
community? What did I have to offer? I wondered why my attitude about coming to
live here always turned from eagerness into reluctance the moment that
Arrosha’s position was mentioned. Could it be that because every time it was,
the word “cult” sprang back into my mind? No matter how vehemently that label
was denied, I could think of no other that fit. After all, this really could
not be considered a bona fide alternative religion, because its members were
far too few, at least for now. Most of the time, that religious factor was so
easy to dismiss because this group was so very different from any other modern
cult of which I’d ever heard. For the most part, it didn’t seem to be a
dominant part of their lives. Except for Ben and the occasional mention, the
piety of its members seemed oddly lacking, its semblance casual rather than
fanatical. This group seemed to be about as laid back about their goddess
worship as once-a-month churchgoers. On the surface, at least, these people,
this lifestyle, seemed to have much more in common with a private, hedonistic
resort club than with any religion to which I’d ever been exposed. The dynamic
was odd; at first glance it seemed to be nothing more than very old,
over-indulgent money choosing to accommodate and cater to the every whim of a
group of young, nouveau riche beautiful people. While I had no doubt that Ben
was earnest and probably the most devout of all the followers, I was left to
wonder whether the others, some of them, at least, were in this just for the
perks. Did they only grudgingly go along with what they considered “church” as
payment for such a fabulous, self-indulgent lifestyle? Was it the price they
paid for youth, wealth and beauty? Once again, I looked up at Ben, hoping that
by an expression on his face or an inflection in his voice, I could get some
small glimmer of an answer. There was none to be had, however, as with a
countenance of beatific peace, he stood silent, staring intently at the
reflecting pool, completely lost within his thoughts.

BOOK: The Nightmare Game
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