Chapter 4

“Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should get used to the idea.”

Robert Heinlein in Glory Road

“Since when do you have a cat?” I asked Harrison.

“What cat? We don’t have a cat.”

“This cat,” I said. I had an adolescent grey tabby with a bobbed tail climbing into my lap. I stroked her head and was rewarded by a resounding purr as she pushed herself further into my lap.

“Anybody missing a cat?” he said loudly.

No answer. “I don’t know where it came from.”

Somehow I felt that ‘it’ was ‘she’ and she was friendly.

“I need my lap for my laptop,” I told her. Of course I talk to cats. Don’t you?

Still purring, she insinuated herself next to my leg, ignoring my motions to pull my laptop out.

I was expecting a couple of the students I tutored (for a small fee) to show up, and when they did, I normally took them to a side room where we were freed from distractions. The first one of those showed up.

“Sorry, kitty,” I said, patting the cat as I got up. She pushed her head into my thigh, then left. I gathered my student up and headed into the chosen room. Sat down.

“Where’d you get a cat?”

The cat was back. When I sat at the table, she jumped up into my lap.

“I dunno. First time I ever saw her was today,” I said. “Leave the door open in case she wants to leave.”

“She?” Benson asked.

“I think so. Kinda hard to tell with young cats.” I picked her up expecting her to twist out of my grasp, but she went limp until she was near my face. Then she rubbed her head against my cheek, purred, and licked my nose.

“Yeah, that’s totally YOUR cat,” he laughed.

We spent an hour going over some basic (to me) algebra stuff, then it was time for me to go. I started putting my iPad away to go. I looked. No cat. I checked around the main room. No cat. Outside. No cat. Oh, well, cats come and go as they please.

Leaving the Student Union, I drove over to Lady Ramona’s shop.

“Hello, Robert,” she said. “Tea?”

“You’re addicting me to tea,” I said. “So, sure, thank you!”

“Sit. Have some quiet time. I will be back.”

I am getting used to this. I closed my eyes, breathed deeply through my nose, trying to parse the exotic smells. Incense? Potpourri? Spices? Herbs? I dunno. Exotic and pleasant and somehow relaxing. It’s like some of the debris in my head fell away, sharpening my senses and thoughts.

She reappeared with a tray. Two cups of tea. Sugar. Cream.

“I haven’t gotten replies from some questions I’ve asked, Robert. These things, they’re, I think, in your view, very imprecise. There are no tables nor scales. I deal in a world that is ages old and poorly, by modern standards, documented. This is a place where Google and Wikipedia offer little help.”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand that. But you said that Sybil failed to attend to detail and now I’m dealing with Sachiko, a very non-standard demon.”

“Perhaps that’s part of the problem, Robert. Sybil didn’t do many things correctly in her summoning. Maybe she didn’t manage a demon at all.”

She smiled. “In the past, the development of a person into an adept, one who could summon and command spirits, demons, if you will, acquired her knowledge over years, decades of learning, working under the eye of those before her. In Europe it was a dangerous thing. You read of witch trials. Know that only a few such trials were recorded. An adept, a witch if you will, in a rural area often met her end with no record or fanfare.”

“Like lynching,” I offered.

“Very much so, except often ending in fire. Fire was thought to cleanse.”

“Sybil walked into a bit of knowledge, thought it much the same as everything else in her life, bits of real and imagined, nothing to be dealt with in respectful, traditional and careful manner. You got Sachiko.”

“Because she used the wrong seaweed. And wrong water.”

“Many, many things come into play, young Robert. Just as in your studies you started with two plus two equals four, you built that rule, plus another rule, plus another dozen rules, and now you can derive very complex findings, far above how many birds are sitting on a wire.”

“Because two plus two was important and I got it right...”

“Yes. Sybil did not know two plus two in the spirit world, so she built wrong things because she failed to understand and employ basic...”

“Two plus two...”

“Yes. For instance, when summoning, you always scribe and work within a circle. The circle is your control. If you fail to close the circle and you fail to maintain command of your entity, then it can leave through the opening in the circle.”

“I don’t think she ever had control,” I posed.

“I think not. I think she knew nothing of being able to command or control, only to summon and assign a victim.”

“Me.”

“Yes, you. And now she has no control and you have Sachiko who is no demon and she is assigned a task for which she has little preparation.”

“I’m happy. I don’t know how I would have handled a real demon.”

“That is intriguing to me, Robert. You’re happy. A creature was summoned against you and you are happy.”

“Sachiko is no demon.”

“I wish I could understand what Sybil missed to cause that. Details. Not some random making of scratches and tossing of herbs and mumbling...”

I am a bit amused by that. Random was a great descriptor of Sybil. She thought that a few evenings of conversation over meals would get me into her bed, and I have no idea what she had in mind past that point. She certainly couldn’t have seen herself as long-term relationship material, could she?

“I am still trying to find more information, Robert. Your issue intrigues me. It has been a long time since I have dealt with a real issue with a spirit.”

“Lucky me.”

She smiled. “Oh, yes, EXTREMELY lucky you. Had our mutual friend been accurate in her work, you would likely have been rent apart and drained in a horrible manner over a short time...”

“I’m Christian. I am protected.”

“Yes. Your mortal soul is protected. The pain and suffering, though – to this mortal side of you would have been tragic.”

“That’s part of the truth that’s not in the Bible?”

“No, it’s in there, Robert. Do you imagine that the people written about in the early church led lives of ease and luxury?”

“No ma’am ... persecution...”

“The flesh suffered. They knew that their spirit was safe.”

“I know I read of the early church...”

“Then you know. Even Paul in his letters said that you fight against things not of the flesh.”

“I read that. I think I didn’t understand...”

“Indeed. I told you that everything might not be in The Book.”

“That’s in there...”

“And you read and you did not comprehend.”

“Yes ma’am.” I’m learning that sometimes the world is not ‘the world as we know it’ and there are some grey areas in the path from black to white.

I met with a couple of fellow engineering students for dinner at a local hamburger emporium.

“You stepped up your game,” Tyler said. “Instructor’s talking about you.”

“Yeah,” added Dylan. “What happened?”

“I dunno. Nothing, really. Just like I kinda got my head into the game, that’s all.”

The conversation followed along the lines of ‘Man, I wish I could understand that stuff better’ and dove over into ‘you seein’ anybody?’

“Not since the Great Sybil Crash.”

“Dude, that’s one strange girl,” Tyler announced.

“Yeah, I know. Chalk it up as an educational experience.”

“Well, one thing I can say,” Tyler continued, “At least she’s not one of those ‘I’m pregnant. Let’s get married’ girls.”

“I didn’t get far enough along to expose her to that,” I admitted.

“You’re about the only one.”

“Nice to know. Ain’t chasing that anyway.”

Party broke up, I headed home. Nope. Not chasing anything.

Shower. Watch a little TV with a history book on my lap, then bed. And blissful...

“Sachiko.”

“My Robert.” In the dim light the smile told me that she’s as happy about her being here as I am.

The pattern has changed. In the beginning, it was simply her opening my fly, extracting my dick and sucking me to orgasm. The fact that I had only a bit of masturbation for a sex life meant her task was not difficult. Now it’s different. She appeared beside me, forming herself, depending on my position, to a full-contact embrace, her face close, kissable. Demon, indeed.

Conversation. Sweet words about how happy we were to be with each other. Her questions about my day, my feelings. I’m trying to understand how this girl, a product of 12^th century Japan, could even know to ask about my life in 21^st century America, but she asked questions, nodded, encouraged. I felt the stresses of the day going away from just talking with her.

That her hands caressed me, loving me, chest, arms, face, and ... I exhaled.

“You like when I touch this,” she smiled. “It’s such a silly thing, but it gives you pleasure and it gives me pleasure to attend to you.” She wiggled against me. “and the last time ... you ... me ... you made me soar...”

And it wasn’t her dashing in, performing her task, then disappearing. She stayed. Two hours. She started to go down on me.

“Sachiko?”

“Yes, my Robert?”

“You always take care of me. Can I ... to you?”