CHAPTER 5 first time
The mechanic’s name was Corissa Fite. She was 44 standard years old and had been working at Bio-Enc since she finished her internship. The conversation that led them from ground to the park and eventually back to her place, was full of esoteric ramblings. He made no bones about not being a Jedi, but she couldn’t see him any other way. She wanted desperately to know more about the Force and life, as if looking for a solution to a problem she had long since forgotten. Preston gave up on convincing her that he was neither a Jedi nor a mystic guru. Somewhere the dialogue broke down and became intimacy. It left Preston bewildered and Corissa asleep. He had watched her for a long while, noting the rhythmic breathing, memorizing every contour of her form so that even with eyes closed, he could see her imprinted on his retinas. He finally got out of bed, dressed, and retired to the balcony. He liked that it was open to the sky line and that it was like looking down on the stars. He pulled the breakfast table closer to the side, climbed up on it, and began a light meditation.
Corissa woke to find herself alone in bed and was immediately disappointed. She thought she had had a better read on Preston, that he wouldn’t just be a one night stand, someone who got up without saying goodbye. Her disappointment turned to concern when she discovered that he was sitting close to the edge of the balcony. He had shifted her small coffee table right up to the edge and was using it as a perch to sit up higher than the railing. She was afraid to touch him for fear of startling him, as the last thing she wanted was for him to accidentally fall.
“Preston?” she whispered.
“Preston?” a little louder. He held up a hand, indicating he needed a moment.
“You okay?” Corissa asked after a moment seemed to have come and gone. She was aware her heart and her breathing.
“Yeah,” Preston said. He opened his eyes, and turned his body so he could see her directly without turning his head, and so that he wouldn’t be distracted by the traffic that flowed below.
“I prefer it up here compared to the lower levels. I’m still aware of the den below, but it’s easier to sift through all the incoming data from this vantage point.”
Corissa tried to understand.
“I guess it is easier being a mystic in a cave or on a mountain, as opposed to here, in the trenches,” she said.
Preston’s face reflected ‘serious contemplation’ as he considered her statement.
“I meant no disrespect,” Corissa corrected herself.
“There is no disrespect. It was an extremely astute observation,” Preston said, still mulling over the complexity of her comment.
“A lesson. Thank you.”
Corissa touched his arm.
“You’re welcome I guess,” she said. She titled her head, touching his cheek.
“Why do you seem so sullen?”
“I’m not sullen.”
“Yeah, you are. You look sad.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m just processing,” Preston said.
“Can you come down off the table and process on the floor?” Corissa asked.
He came off the table. She hugged him and then led him back into the room. They sat on the bed, both in a meditation pose, the natural lotus position. She held his hands in hers. The curtain stirred along the balcony door, parting in half to allow an occasional glimpse of city light.
“Can you tell me what you’re processing?” Corissa asked.
“I’ve had quite a few experiences today. It’s a lot to take in,” Preston said, caressing her hands, not meeting her eyes. He brought her hands up to his face, touched her hands to his cheeks, his lips, and smelled them. He realized where his focus was, where his thoughts were taking him again, and he turned his attention back to her face, her eyes, so she might know he was listening to her.
“I imagine,” Corissa said, smiling at the way he was looking at her. She was no longer ‘creeped out’ by the intensity of his stare. Indeed, his stare thrilled her, it was tangible. She had jokingly asked if he had been using the Force on her to get her into bed. Not understanding, he had asked if she wanted him to levitate her and place her in bed, and she had laughed and kissed him, and now, here they still were, navigating… ‘Navigating what?’ was her unvoiced thought.
“Your first civilized planet. Your first foray into a crowded market place. Your first fast food, almost. Your first time,” Corissa said, emphasizing ‘first time.’
He nodded with a smile.
“So, how was it?” Corissa asked.
“How was what?” Preston asked.
Corissa titled her head down, giving him a stare that suggested annoyance.
“Really?”
“Really what?” Preston asked.
“Your first time,” Corissa asked, somewhat annoyed by having to spell it out for him.
“Oh! It was nice,” Preston said.
“Nice?!” Corissa echoed. Her annoyance became anger.
“I detect an increase in emotional intensity,” Preston said.
“What is the correct response?”
“I don’t expect you to lie,” Corissa snapped, pulling her hands away from him.
“Yes, I’m flabbergasted but I shouldn’t be surprised. I suppose I should be grateful you have not learned enough social etiquette to lie. So, what didn’t I do right?”
Preston was struck by the wording. Did she mean, ‘what did I do wrong?’ “I doubt my disappointment has anything to do with you at all”
“You’re disappointed?!”
Preston bit his lips, not understanding why this felt as if it were going bad.
“Well, I have imagined having sex for a long time and I guess I was expecting more fireworks,” Preston said.
“Consequently, whatever I’m experiencing, it just means I need to adjust my expectations to meet reality.”
“I was that bad?” Corissa asked.
“Again, my expectations are not about you. I don’t know how to explain it. Let me think,” Preston said, feeling his own frustration rising, wondering if his language skills were so poor that he was going to need to buy a protocol droid. He definitely had not intended to cause her pain.
“I’ve had sexual encounters on the astral plane,” he began.
“You’ve had sex on a plane?” she asked, taken back.
“So, I’m not the first woman…”
Preston sighed heavily.
“Hold on, you’re the first time I have had sex, physically. The astral plane is another dimension, outside the material realm,” Preston said.
“Everything in that realm is more intense, louder, brighter, more energetic… And that’s probably where I made a mistake. I shouldn’t compare my experience there to here. I’ve had encounters in dreams, too. They can be fairly extreme, depending on the degree of lucidity, but even that is vastly different than physical reality.”
“So, no wonder you’re disappointed. How many women have you fantasized about?” Corissa asked.
“Not really a fair question, is it?” Preston asked, not sure he wanted to respond to that. He knew he shouldn’t be embarrassed, but he was feeling heavy judgment directed at him and he wanted Corissa to like him.
“I will answer it if you insist, but I ask for understanding. I lived my entire life isolated, no other humans, no other organic sentient beings. Naturally I had to supplement with imagination and the occasional use of a holographic projector.”
Corissa was visibly sorting out her anger. Preston accepted a higher reality that somehow he had contributed to this situation. Is this why Jedi forgo intimacy?
“Clearly I have not provided you with sufficient data to make an informed decision about the activity we engaged in. I’ve failed and I don’t know how to correct this. Because I have missed out on physical touch, I may just not know how to process it. Maybe I’ve put so much time in theoretical, intellectual exercises that I just don’t know how to be physical. Maybe I held back because of fear. I don’t know. This is new to me. I’m learning,” Preston said.
“I am willing to work through this difficulty with you.”
Corissa nodded.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I got mad. I guess no one ever said they were disappointed before,” she said, starting to show compassion. Compassion was a camera flash worth of lightening that shifted back to anger.
“You claim to be new to this, but you’re not like all worried about your performance? You’re focused on my performance?”
“Performance? We were supposed to be acting? Wait? Are you saying you were unsatisfied?” Preston asked, but he found no answer in her eyes.
“I recognize that the intensity of my desire to be with you may have limited my ability to anticipate your needs, but I was unaware of neglecting you in any way. I’m genuinely sorry if I have failed you.”
“Oh, you didn’t fail me,” Corissa said, returning to the compassionate wave of emotions.
“You were awesome. Wait. You’re distracting me from my point. Don’t you worry about anything?”
“I don’t know,” Preston said, musing.
“I was concerned about hurting you physically. I guess I assume if I failed to meet a need, you would inform me. Is that a bad assumption?”
“Yeah, probably,” Corissa said, somewhere closer to neutral but still a bit miffed. The thought had never occurred to her that she might actually ask someone to meet her needs.
“What is lucidity in a dream?”
“Do you really want to start a new topic?” Preston asked.
“Yeah,” Corissa said.
“I’m uncomfortable with where this was headed.”
“I thought it was headed towards clarity,” Preston said.
“Move on,” Corissa said, seeming a little cross.
Preston considered.
“Okay. Lucidity. Have you ever been in a dream and suddenly realized you were dreaming?”
“No,” Corissa said.
“I don’t dream.”
“Well, yes, you do, but you may not recall. I have perfect dream recall. It’s a skill set that can be learned,” Preston said.
“Even if I did recall, dreams are irrelevant,” Corissa said.
“They have no bearing on life.” Preston seemed surprised.
“It’s the only bearing on life.”
“How do you figure?” Corissa asked.
Preston was silent for a long moment, taking so long that Corissa nearly asked another question, but he held a hand up as if asking her to wait. He sighed.
“I think you’re too caught up in the romanticizing and fantasizing about what popular culture says a Jedi should be. Not that it’s your fault. For hundreds of years now it has been nothing but a fight for power and control with the most extraordinary, ostentatious displays of Force powers making the scenes, with flashy battle techniques, and over the top, charismatic Force wielders. That’s not what the Force is about. It’s not about wish fulfillment or reshaping reality to our desires. I mean, it is, and it can be, as there is Force in every interaction, every moment, but it’s mostly subtle and quiet. Feeding the orphans, that’s a Force interaction. Walking in the park and connecting with nature. That’s a Force interaction. This conversation, holding hands, being intimate, all of this is more about the Force than anything you might have imagined. It’s in our dreams where we really reconnect with the Force, where we connect with all there is. We do this to communicate our observations back to the Source, to get guidance, to play, to remind ourselves we are not alone. It’s not about bending the Force to our will or the aligning ourselves with the Force, because we’re already one. There is nothing else that needs to be done.”
“You make being a Jedi sound mundane,” Corissa said.
“There is no mundane. There is no sacred. Or, it’s all mundane, and it’s all sacred, there is no separation,” Preston offered.
“All is the Force.”
“Our connection?” Corissa asked.
“You don’t think our encounters were an accident, do you?” Preston asked.
“You being here with me now was a choice, but I do believe our meeting was coincidental, just a random proximity thing,” Corissa said.
“Really?” Preston said.
“That’s your explanation for how we got to be here together?”
“You stalked me, annoyed me, and then I met you again, and I still found you annoying…” Corissa began.
“Do you always bring home men who annoy you?” Preston asked.
“How dare you!” Corissa snapped, moving as if to get up.
Preston took her hand with only enough pressure to delay her flight.
“I’m only asking you to consider that it was more than your curiosity about me that led us to this moment and that we may run deeper and closer than what you are sensing on the surface. There is a subtle level of intuition moving you, actually moving us, and it’s only a matter of time before the reason presents itself.”
“There is no reason to this, it just is,” Corissa said.
“I can accept that, for now, but there is always more to it. I don’t know what that reason is yet, but I am confident enlightenment is approaching,” Preston said.
Corissa frowned, forcing herself to breathe and shake off the most recent flush of anger. In some ways, he was still annoying, but she also wanted to believe there was something here.
“So, you have all of this insight into reality and yet you spend your dream time having sex?” Corissa asked.
“Pff, well, yeah,” Preston said, wondering where all her sense of play went.
“I’m still a novice when it comes to dream work, which means I spend quite a bit of time in play. Sure, I do engage in some dream meditating, and I’m involved in personal dream healing, and distance dream healing projects for others, but that’s really tough work. Playing is necessary to remain healthy and to build stamina in the dream world and to get a better feel of what’s possible.
“You mean, it’s not unlimited freedom?” Corissa asked.
“Hardly. You definitely feel freer, but a lucid dreamer doesn’t have absolute control. There is something else, something greater, moderating the experience, and the other agents you meet in the dream, well, they have a will and voice of their own. I don’t control them, either, but I interact with them if they are agreeable.”
“Through sex,” Corissa scoffed.
“Again, if they are agreeable. You can be turned down in your dreams, too. Dream sex may seem frivolous at some level, it is definitely an exercise in channeling energy, and the natural rewards increase with the frequency of practice, which in turn encourages more lucid dreams, but I assure you, I don’t get to have my way with everyone and everything. The other agents might say no, or not interested, or be incompatible, but when there is agreement, it can range anywhere from just mundane to absolutely glorious, but none holds a candle to what intimacy is like on the Astral plane,”
“Really?” Corissa said, scoffing.
“Dream sex is less intense than Astral sex?”
“Oh, yeah, way less,” Preston said.
“That’s one way to know the difference. It feels different.”
“The same way sex on the physical plane feels different than dream sex?”
“Apparently, but I suspect I need more research before I can give you an accurate report,” Preston offered.
“Umph,” Corissa said, skeptically.
“Why don’t you just demonstrate Astral sex with me?”
Preston considered the problem.
“What? I don’t have an astral body?” Corissa asked.
“Umm, oh, yeah, of course, you do,” Preston said.
“You know the saying, right? We’re beings of light? But it may be something you have to work up to. I need to reflect on this some. Dream sex might be the necessary, first, best step.”
“Again, I don’t dream.”
“We should start there. Everyone dreams. You’re going to have to improve your dream recall, that’s all,” Preston said.
“Once you start remembering, we’ll work on lucidity. And after we get lucidity, we have to work on staying in the dream. Cause if you can’t learn to stay in it, you’ll wake up before an orgasm every time. And that’s frustrating as hell. And if you can’t stay lucid in a dream, you will find Astral travel difficult, because some experiences are so intense that it triggers a fight or flight response which drives a person back to their body and that is even more frustrating than not being satisfied in a dream.”
“I can understand frustration,” Corissa said. She forced herself to breathe.
“I’m sorry I got mad. You should know, if this is to continue, I have a bit of a temper. Probably why I live alone.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. I accept you for who you are,” Preston said.
“Who am I?”
Preston squeezed her hands.
“I’m sorry, I can’t answer that for you. And, I’m not sure I can guide you at the moment, as I’m feeling a bit distracted,” Preston admitted.
Corissa smiled, kissed his hands.
“How distracted?” she asked in a whisper.
“Yeah, I feel like I am dreaming,” Preston said, unaware that his response was having an unintended effect on her.
“Dreaming but not lucid. I’m aware of some things, but I’m not fully connected. I just want to stop life.”
Corissa’s bubble crashed, as she had initially interpreted his words as an indication he wanted to be intimate again.
“Stop life” had not only been confusing, but jarred her out of her mood.
“Stop? Are you talking about suicide?”
Preston considered this for a moment and his lack of response escalated her concern. He became preoccupied with his miscommunication, wondering how she had arrived at suicide.
“You’re that unsatisfied with life?” Corissa asked.
“Stopping to reflect does not equal unsatisfied. I’m very content,” Preston assured her.
“Perhaps that’s the problem,” Corissa said, trying to recover the romantic feelings.
“You just need some passion.”
“Passion for what?”
Corissa bit her lower lip.
“I don’t know. I like creating things, fixing things. What do you like?” Corissa asked, clearly not happy with the turnings of the conversation.
“I am interested in everything equally,” Preston admitted.
“That sounds boring,” Corissa said.
“You need to find something you’re passionate about and make that you’re priority. You can’t just drift through life, waiting for something to happen. You have to generate desire. If you want something good to happen, you have to make it happen.” She puzzled over his look.
“Now what?”
“Again, an interesting choice of words,” Preston said.
“Drifting. Floating. Perhaps I should try swimming for a change.”
“Swimming’s good. Would you like to go to the pool tomorrow?” Corissa asked, moving back into small talk mode.
“Okay,” Preston said, giving up on the whole ‘being on the same page’ idea. This was exhausting!
They both sighed, heavily. That made Corissa smile, as if perhaps maybe they had been on the same page, but just didn’t know how to communicate it.
“So, are you up for some more research then? Maybe see if your second time is better than the first time?” Corissa asked, raising eyebrows flirtatiously.
Preston considered.
“You know ‘different’ is probably preferable to ‘better,’ as it connotes perceptible variations in experience as opposed to assigning qualities of inherent good or bad.”
“Do you want to do it or not?” Corissa snapped.
“Absolutely,” Preston agreed.
♫♪►
The next time Corissa woke, Preston was sitting on the bed, facing her, a huge smile on his face. She rolled over and looked at the clock and then back to Preston.
“You’re creeping me out again,” Corissa said.
“Sorry,” Preston said, not changing the intensity of his staring.
“What?” Corissa asked.
“It was better the second time?” Preston nodded.
“There is something else, though?” Corissa asked. Preston nodded.
“Well?” Corissa asked.
“Have you ever experienced that phenomena where someone asks you something and you know the word but you can’t recall it? It’s on the tip of your tongue, but the more you struggle to remember, the more lost it gets?” Preston asked.
“Yeah,” Corissa said.
“That happens to me a lot,” Preston said.
“And?”
“I’m remembering when we first met,” Preston said.
“When you chased me into the women’s locker room?” Corissa asked.
“No,” Preston said.
“Go further.”
“Further?” Corissa asked.
“Further back,” Preston directed.
“I need help,” she said.
“I want you to remember when you remember,” Preston said.
“Okay, stop with the mystic, cryptic responses and just tell me,” Corissa asked.
“You were 36,” Preston said.
“Yeah, your point?” Corissa said, feeling sensitive about her age.
“During an emergency drill, your life pod was accidentally jettisoned, and you crashed planet side,” Preston said.
Corissa sat straight up in bed.
“You!” Corissa said. An intense de-ja-vu experience flooded her body with warmth, and she almost felt like she was outside of herself. For a brief moment, her world seemed surreal, as if she had taken illicit drugs. She suddenly pulled the sheets up around her, her level of exposure, not her nudity, driving her to want to hide.
“They told me that the spores on that planet cause humans to hallucinate.”
“Do you really think a hallucination healed your leg?” Preston said.
“There was no evidence it was ever broken. I was told that that was part of the spore induced psychosis,” Corissa asked.
“You were injured, you asked for help, and I was sent,” Preston said.
“Who sent you?”
“The Force,” Preston said, shrugging.
“Technically, Master Ashia, sent me, but someone probably told her to send me, so instead of chasing the connections, it’s easier to just say the Force sent me. We all have guardians and guides and, well, it just sort of works itself out. Bottom line, we met. And you, again, were my first. I guided you, kept you company, and made sure you were found.”
Corissa stared, re-evaluating that experience.
“And with all things, it wasn’t one sided. You also met my needs at the time. I needed human interaction. Specifically, at the time, I needed to know I wasn’t the only one seemingly alone and suffering. You helped me as much as I helped you. And I am grateful for the lessons,” Preston said, bowing to her.
“I don’t know what to say,” Corissa said.
“It isn’t compulsory,” Preston said.
Corissa got up and headed towards the bathroom.
“I got to get ready for work. Help yourself to anything that’s in the kitchen.”
Preston was naturally puzzled by his sense that she was closing herself off, but decided she needed her space and she would come out of the ‘women’s locker room’ when she was good and ready. Trying to follow before she was ready would likely cause her to lock him out, or draw a soldering iron on him. So, he dressed and rummaged through the kitchen while Corissa did her routine. When she made herself available again, she was in her work overalls, her hair tied up under a hat. He was sitting on the table, one foot tucked under his thigh, the other foot in the chair. The fact that he wasn’t sitting in the chair annoyed her a little, but when she realized he had used fruit juice instead of milk in his cereal, she was more grossed out than upset.
“You’re supposed to use milk,” Corissa corrected, frowning.
“There was only a corner left and I didn’t want you to be without,” Preston said.
“You should have taken it. ‘No’ to juice in your cereal,” Corissa said.
“I’m content,” Preston assured her.
“Well, um,” Corissa began, but she didn’t know how to respond to that. It wouldn’t harm him, she supposed. It just didn’t fit her tastes.
“This feels awkward somehow,” Preston said.
“Yeah. It does, doesn’t it,” Corissa said.
“I don’t have a lot of male visitors. And, well, you’re a bit younger than I and…”
“No, I’m not,” Preston argued.
“You’re what, maybe seventeen?”
“Using standard measurements, 18,” Preston said.
“I’m 44 and from where I come from, I could theoretically be your mother,” Corissa said.
“But you’re not,” Preston said.
“Further, if we assume the atoms comprising our body were formed in the same supernova, we’re relatively the same age, but further than that, the energy that constitutes our atoms at the quantum level came from the same initial bloom of Universal energy, which means, we are definitely the same age.”
“You’re rationalizing and it sounds clingy,” Corissa said.
“You should be with someone your own age.”
“You are saying you don’t want to see me again?” Preston asked.
“I didn’t say that,” Corissa said.
“I am confused. May we continue to share time together?” Preston asked, seeking clarity.
“What is this? What are we?” Corissa asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t believe it is an accident that I found you. I would like to follow this as far as it takes us,” Preston said.
“I need some time to think,” Corissa said.
“Fair enough,” Preston said.
Again, the awkwardness remained. Preston continued to sit on the table, holding the bowl with both hands, while she continued to stand there, their eyes locked.
“Well?” Corissa asked.
“I don’t know how to respond to that,” Preston said.
“I said I need time to think,” Corissa said.
“Are you asking me to leave?” Preston asked.
“Would you?” Corissa asked, relieved he asked.
“Sure,” Preston said, taking his bowl to wash it out.
“Just leave it. I’ll get it,” Corissa said.
Preston nodded, leaving the dish in the sink. He moved as if to hug her goodbye, but she held a hand up, pushing a new boundary without speaking. Preston understood and nodded. He paused at the door.
“Have I made an error?” Preston asked.
“Sleeping with me?” Corissa snapped.
“That wasn’t an error. That was choice. I’m asking if I have failed to do something because I’m feeling a bit rejected at the moment, and some of that may just be general paranoia from lack of experience with people, and if there is something I can correct, I would like to repair it,” Preston said.
“Sorry, I’m rambling. Again, I’m new to this.”
“I really don’t have time to nurse maid you into adulthood,” Corissa said.
“I would like to find someone who is going to be around and, well, again, there is a huge age difference, and if there is a mistake it is on me. I’m sorry. I was being selfish last night.”
Preston tried to appear understanding, but he really didn’t have a clue, even as she shut the door in his face. Had he wanted, he could have used the Force to spy on her. Had he done so, he would have seen her lean against the door with her head, the angst of indecision heavy on her face. It didn’t matter that he was certain that she indeed wanted to run with it, see how far it took them, but her argument was well spoken. How could he fault her? His path took him from her apartment back to the park slash garden. He was fairly distracted, sorting out his feelings, when he became aware that the lightening bugs were congregating above the tree top level. He was going to take a moment to puzzle through it when the answer came on its own time: a Droid stepped out from behind a tree and zapped him.
The Taser sent 50,000 kw coursing through his body, which was enough to temporary restrain him, but additionally the robot administered a sedative. The needle protruding from a knuckle hit an artery in Preston’s neck, speeding it to the brain, knocking him out completely. The robot carried the body towards the lift. The witnesses went out of their way to avoid being a part of the scene. The lift shot them to the roof, thanks to the Droid’s override. The Droid carried the body up into a waiting shuttle, placed the body on a gurney, closed the hatch, turned to head to the cockpit and paused. Blocking his egress was a Doppleganger, an exact duplicate of Preston.
“What are your intentions?” Preston asked.
The Droid went for its Taser. Preston?