Underneath It All by Loxy Isadora Bliss - HTML preview

“My business. Everyone who truly knows me knows my business, and whether you

include yourself in that circle or not, you will know the truth of me,” Phillip said. “No one outside of that circle knows my business, or even suspects. But I guarantee you, should you arrive at a hotel and spend the night alone while I reside here, there will be questions and scandals that will follow you all the way back to London. My recommendation to you is that you remain, peacefully, and enjoy your time as best you can. I will accommodate you to the best of my ability, but I will not be blocked from pursuing my friendships, and I will definitely not remain celibate to appease a business partner’s sense of propriety.”

Phillip excused himself and walked away from us. Raine smiled; just another day.

“Come, I will show to your rooms so you might freshen up. Master Shen, you and the crew may make yourselves at home.”

“Thank you, Raine,” Shen said.

Raine led Effie and me away and we were offered one large room to share, or separate rooms. Effie took the larger room for herself and insisted I take the closer of the two smaller.

Raine did not object. We were also shown a place to bathe, and after changing we emerged back down and were directed by staff or friend to a sitting room where we found Raine waiting for us.

“Is it too early for tea?” Raine asked.

“Of course not,” I said, sitting.

Effie sat without speaking. I sipped at the tea. Effie went as far as picking up the cup but didn’t even smell it. Raine inquired into our journey and I responded that it was very pleasant and that we were accompanied by dolphins up to the Seine. I told her about how I remained most of the night marveling at the stars and how crisp they were so far removed from civilization and

that when I finally did manage to sleep, my dreams were peculiar, perhaps because of the motion of our ship on the water. I think Raine was about to agree, but Effie interrupted our conversation.

“Where is my husband?” Effie said.

“Traveling,” Raine said.

Effie set her cup down and came to the edge of her chair. “Excuse me?”

“You will find his body in the study, as if napping, but I assure you, you will not find him anywhere in France,” Raine said. “I would go further and say that it is unlikely he is even in Europe, but it can be hard to measure that without accompanying him.”

“I am not even going to pretend to understand your madness,” Effie said. “Define your relationship with him.”

“We are friends,” Raine said, simply.

Effie snorted. “I imagine more. How much money does he give you?”

“Phillip is the most honest, loving, kindly, and generous man I have ever met in my life,”

Raine said. “He has demonstrated so much love towards me and his fellow man, enemy or not, that I would personally deny him nothing. He has helped more individuals heal and prosper than I can count. This estate, his founding, in truth belongs to no one, as he and I legally bound it so tight in trusts that no one person might ever come and rob it from those who reside here. He would have preferred it be in my name, but to honor his philosophy I insisted that this refuge, if you will, remain as a safe haven for those in need for all times to come beyond my personal usage. I am the caretaker, and there are protocols in place should I die before establishing my replacement to find another.”

“Clearly, you must require his ongoing charity to maintain it,” Effie said.

“The estate supports itself. That is the brilliancy of Phillip’s industry; he makes everyone so self-sufficient and profitable that they can exist outside of the present day industry, and should a market collapse, his people will not starve, and will be staged as to provide comfort to the masses. The people who live here labor out of charity, without compensation, unless you consider room and board compensation,” Raine said. She poured more tea for herself and offered to warm my cup. “There are any number of experts residing here that teach necessary trades and support the estate through their industry, and for nominal fees assist our neighbors. We make an annual profit from the orchard. For a small fee, any person may come and carry as much as he can out. I have even made arrangements for those who can’t afford the price of admission to

carry a wagon full of produce, encouraging them to eat what they and their family need without charge, and to sell as much as they can, with the caveat that a fair portion of profit return to the estate.”

“And you are not robbed blind?” Effie said.

“We have never been injured. The world provides sustenance, we share in that

abundance, or we whither. We care for the land, it cares for us. It returns to us in yields that would surprise the average farmer,” Raine said. “Should anyone try to cheat this system, they will find such misfortune befalling them that they will quickly make amends. And that is why Phillip is so successful. He helps everyone, regardless of cost to him. He has gone out of his way to impoverish himself, and yet everything he does results in kindness back to him. Not one of the persons he has raised will allow him to starve. He teaches nothing more than kindness and generosity, and of those few that he has raised that have tried to go against his teaching, each one has found themselves completely unsuccessful in life. Some return to their school to start again.

Some do not come back, out of shame or out of spite. I teach a small group here. Some stay and carry the estate directly by their labors. Most leave, and they remember us kindly with regular donations. It is not required that they compensate the estate directly, only that they help their fellow man. Should the estate ever generate excess, it is dispersed towards the charities I favor, after all internal needs have been met.”

“I don’t understand,” Effie said. “What kind of business model is this?”

“It is the one that every religion discusses in theory, but never puts to practice,” Raine said. “If the Catholic Church would dispense with even ten percent of their accumulated wealth it hoards, it could feed every person in the world for the next hundred years, and establish such a consistent model of human decency that we would see in our life time an end of to human suffering.”

“You are insane,” Effie said.

“Perhaps, dear,” Raine said. “Anyone who professes to have seen the miraculous often gets labeled such.”

“The way you speak, you must imagine Phillip to be a saint,” Effie said.

“He certainly will never be celebrated as such,” Raine agreed.

“Because he is not. He is just a man,” Effie said.

“Have you ever read John Donne?” Raine asked. “’No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as any manner of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.’ In this, you see that no man is just a man. No woman is just woman. We carry within us more than we could ever imagine. Worlds upon worlds are inside of us and around us, and we go from one to the other as easy as squirrels going from tree to tree.”

“So, hypothetically, you would allow me to take anything I want from this place,” Effie said.

“Of course,” Raine said.

“Give me your pendent,” Effie said.

“Effie,” I said.

But Raine was already removing it. She held it forth, allowing Effie to reach and take it from her.

“So, this is obviously a worthless trinket,” Effie said.

“No, it is not,” Raine said. “The gold alone is worth its weight. The diamond almost as much, the craftsmanship adds even more value. In terms of sentiment, I find it priceless, as it was something Phillip himself made as a gift to me.”

“And yet, you surrender it as if it were nothing,” Effie said.

“It is nothing. Metal, crystal, art,” Raine said. “Because you asked for that specifically, I gladly surrender it to you. You have a need and you recognize its value. Take it and prosper.”

“I have no need of it. I am merely taking it from you because you allow it,” Effie said. “I think I might sell it and use the money for candy.”

“If candy is your need, sweeten your life. Sell it to whoever you like,” Raine said. “It will return to me within a year.”

Effie laughed. “I think, midway back to England, I shall dispose of it into the ocean.”

“Please,” Raine said. “And the next time you see me, you will find it about my neck.”

Effie was seriously taken back. “You say that as if you believe it. I will have it destroyed.

You will never see it again.”

“There is a latch there, open it,” Raine said. Inside there was a solitary word written.

Love. “Go over to my desk there, remove the paper where see the word written, and make any mark you like on the backside, return the paper, close it, and throw it into the deepest ocean you like. And when you see me next and I am wearing it, you will find the very mark you have placed secretly behind that word.”

Effie got up and proceeded to the desk, where apparently Raine spent time reading and writing correspondence. Neither I nor Raine could see what Effie wrote, but she wrote something in her own script, placed the paper in the chamber, closed the pendent, and put it about her neck as if she intended to carry it off and follow through with her plans to trash the item.

“I find it interesting,” Raine said, after Effie had rejoined us. “That out of all the things you could have asked for, the thing you demand the most is experiencing a miracle.”

“There are no such things,” Effie said. “I assure you, I have prayed more nights than any priest or nun, more earnestly than the Pope himself, and with the sincerity of a child, and not a single plea for a cessation of misery has ever been answered.”

“I promise you, if you remain near Phillip for even a month, you will find miracles so common that you will wonder how you ever doubted,” Raine said.

“If a man was so miraculous, he would have a better station, and not married to the likes of me,” Effie said.

“That is one view,” Raine said.

“There can be no other,” Effie said.

“Men of Phillips talents are frequently destroyed by society,” Raine said. “A hundred years ago, he would have been burned as a witch, even though he has only brought goodness to those around him. Now a days, they tend to be run out of town, impoverished, and die alone. Did you ever hear of man name Mesmer? You should research him. He practiced something very akin to what Phillip practices, and he had all the ears of Paris tuned in, but fear trumped it and they ran him out of town, despite his proven success over and over, and he died a popper. My parents knew the man. My mother’s health was restored and fortified because of that secret activity none wish to talk about or print. Prepare yourself; most people will not favor your husband. You will see people openly despise him and ridicule him, and most of the time, he will respond with kindness. They will hold him in contempt and they will do their best to unravel him. They will treat him no less than the way I witness you presently doing. Because of this, he

has been overly cautious with his friendships, more out of a perverse need to protect them from the fall out they might experience when he falls. He has remained always on the move, so no one place experiences an increase in inexplicable happenings.”

“What do you mean, fall?” I asked.

“Perhaps nothing. If you believe Newton, though, we are falling all the time, even though our senses tell us contrary,” Raine said. “Perhaps I should change my statement. When Phillip lands, there will be such a scene that his physical life will be taken from us and we will likely only be left with memories of his kindness. Though reports of his abilities and generosity may linger, there will be so many more reports about his indulgence in scandalous behaviors and how he used his charismatic personality to engage in fraud upon the public that very few will ever discern the truth of his message.”

“Why the fear?” I asked.

“Imagine you were a person of importance, and the secrets you held kept the world at peace,” Raine said. “Now, imagine a man like Phillip who know so many things that he could be accused of reading minds. There would be no secrets. One man knowing is one thing, but what if he could teach anyone to know the mind of any. There would be no secrets, and this age of industry would collapse. This world is run on secrecy. If the true cost of a product was known, no one would ever buy or haggle again.”

“No one can read minds,” Effie said.

“Says the girl so certain miracles don’t exist she wishes to prove it to another by use of force,” Raine said. “Don’t fret, I am not disparaging you. I encourage you to trash my pendent and witness its destruction for yourself. You are not alone, dear. Society is moving more and more away from miracles, and we will be so starved before long, starved for that very thing that sustains us but denied access because it doesn’t fit the present paradigm, that society will come to very edge of extinction.”

“God would not allow it,” Effie said.

“I assure you, the best way to teach a people they hold depravity is to allow themselves to experience it,” Raine said. “God will not interfere with our free will because He wants us to know just how bad off we can be when we turn away from the path.”

“Regardless of whom it affects?” Effie asked.

“That is the message, dear. We’re all in the same boat,” Raine said. “We rise and fall together.”

निनमित

The remainder of the day was easy, as we mostly relaxed, shared meals, and recuperated from our travels. Raine was the perfect host, despite Effie’s efforts to bring us down. Phillip excused himself, and retired to his own room, which apparently would remain his room for as long he was alive and wanted it. Raine and I continued to speak, as she had taken as much interest in me as I in her. She was a botanist, by natural instinct and by training from local University where only a huge sum of money had convinced people to allow her to attend, even if it was only humoring her. Though academically she could compete well, she only focused on the

opportunities to advance her knowledge and talents. At a certain point, it was clear Effie wanted to retire but she lingered, and tried to maneuver me to retire so that she might. I am not sure if it was because she wanted my company or because she did not want to be left out. I didn’t inquire, trusting she would eventually arrive at a place where she could inform me her needs.

“I do think Raine is tired,” Effie said, when working me didn’t get results.

“I am fine, but you must be exhausted,” Raine said. “If you would like to retire, I could provide you with an attendant.”

“I have one, but she is obtuse,” Effie said, looking at me.

“You chose the single occupancy room for me so you might be alone,” I pointed out.

“You should retire to, if we are to maintain our schedule tomorrow,” Effie said.

“Perhaps Effie is right, dear,” Raine said, graciously. “I find my spirit so revived by you that we might not sleep if we don’t exercise discipline.”

So, we retired. I helped Effie in changing and saw her to bed, turned out her oil lamp, and proceeded to my own room with nothing more than a candle. I got myself ready, turned back the bed, and only then blew out my candle. I found my way to the bed before my eyes adjusted. I had no sooner made myself comfortable than I was overwhelmed by an odor as if I had

descended into a citrus bath. The smell of orange was so strong, I could taste it. I got up and went to the window. This was not the source. The curtain reached out to touch me, moved by a gentle breeze. I closed my eyes and felt it against my face. I imagined it was Jon, reaching out to me. I lingered, allowing this ghost and curtain to make love to me. In this fashion, I have even

made love to a shower curtain that had been inexplicably drawn towards me, and even been satisfied. But tonight, the curtain was not enough.

I quietly exited my room and followed the scent of orange. When I was certain of the source, I entered. It was Phillip’s room. The only furniture in the room was a mattress, which was on the floor, and a wooden butler on which his clothes were hung, and the contents of his pockets on the tray of the butler. The butler had several drawers as well. Phillip was sitting in the lotus position, centered on the mattress. His eyes were closed. There was no less than fifty orange candles a blaze. Let me explain. These weren’t wax candles, these were oranges. Imagine someone having painstakingly unfolded an orange so that the peel was intact, and that very center thread that runs the middle of the fruit was left intact so that that part had become the candlewick and oil had been placed in the bowl of the orange rind and its wick lit. Some oranges were more spherically intact than others, and light pushed through rind. Most of the oranges were half, or a little more. The light of these candles was not intense, but altogether, the room seemed ablaze, and this was the smell of the oranges.

I came in and closed the door. I felt rose petals against my feet, and on coming in contact, I noticed the scent of rose accompanying the orange. I navigated around the orange lights, arranged in magical pattern. My knee descended ever so carefully to the bed and I crawled up to Phillip and kissed him. He kissed back. He took me in his arms and laid back, pulling me on top of him. With his help, my clothes came off, and when naked, he rolled me so that he was on top.

“I wanted to show you something, but I am afraid I am now so particularly disturbed that I will not be able to concentrate until I have satisfied myself,” Phillip said.

“I will not be satisfied until you are,” I said.

“That is not how I work,” Phillip said. “I will see you satisfied first. Especially this first time, as you have me at such a point that I may as well be a young man untrained in the art.”

“Then you should see me satisfied straight away,” I said.

His full weight on me, he returned his lips to mine, pushed his hands through my hair, and then began to descend along my body, his lips, hands, and eyes scrutinizing every detail of me. He tasted me from head to toe, missing that central spot as if purposely teasing, and then rose again, bringing my legs up over his shoulder, massaging my thighs with mouth and fingers, drawing ever closer. And then he got very still, and very close. His breath alone made my lips quiver. He traced it with finger, merely to brush the outer lips but I was so wet the slightest

pressure parted the sea, if you will. He went there with lips and tongue and he tasted me. He tasted me the way a man of drought would have taken to fresh water. He discovered me so quickly, understanding my change in breath, gauging my response that it took little time at all before my hands were on his head, and I was brought to orgasm.

“Oh, God, Jon!” I said. I bit my lip.

Phillip rose over me, our bodies still touching, and looked into my eyes. “Jon, is it?”

“I am sorry, Phillip,” I said.

“Why should you be?” Phillip asked. “Jon has been kind to you?”

“He has,” I said.

“Then I shall look forward to meeting him,” Phillip said.

“That would be nice,” I said.

“Are you okay if I continue?” Phillip asked.

“I would like that,” I said. He was poised in such a way that I could feel him, and he only need thrust and he would be full in me.

Phillip eased his weight ever so carefully forward, so only a fraction of him entered. He was gauging me the whole way, maintaining eye contact. I wanted him in deeper, faster, but he resisted my efforts to rush him. He arrived full in, having taken my hands and pinned them above my head, only my legs hugging. He held it there, the fullness of him throbbing. I moved to grind, but he stilled me.

“Why do hold back?” I asked.

“I am wanting this moment to last,” he said.

“We can always begin again,” I said.

He kissed me. “Keep your eyes open, fixed to mine,” he whispered.

He rocked me, ever so gentle. He was trying to grind against me while minimizing his own movement inside me. It was an impossible thing, as there was no way he wouldn’t move, but he managed to maintain pressure against me until I was again on the verge of orgasm, and then he accelerated and I was in full storm, struggling to maintain eye contact when he finally arrived. He quivered, as if having an epileptic fit, and passed out on top of me.

I had no time to be concerned, as I was suddenly transported out of my body. I found myself near a tree. It was a single tree on a hill, overlooking wild grain of light, at night, full of a

variety of fire flies each species identified by their signature frequency. I knew the place well.

Initial insertion point.

“This is new,” Phillip said.

Phillip was beside me, fully dressed, as was I. He took my hand marveled at me and then turned to the rainbow of lights of plant and insect and stars.

“It feels like Christmas,” Phillip said. “Is this your world?”

“Yes,” I said. “And yours.”

He turned to me. “No, I have seen my world, and this is different.” He let go of my hand and went the tree. There was enough light he could discern the carving of a heart, in which was written, ‘Jon and Loxy.’ I carved it myself.

“Ah, that makes sense,” Phillip said.

“Tell me,” I asked.

“I have a Mormon friend in the states who believes every man has a planet unto himself. I believe him, but I also believe women have their own planets, and here we are, I have discovered yours,” Phillip said. “Or you have invited me. Or we were so entangled you brought me here by accident.”

“What if I told you this was your planet?” I asked.

“I would doubt. I have seen mine, with my own eyes,” Phillip said.

“This is a big a place, Sir, maybe you’re not looking in the right spot,” I said.

“Or with the right eyes?” Phillip asked playfully.

“What would you say if I told you that you are not who you think you are?” I asked.

“Then what would be the point in any exercise of thought?” Phillip asked.

“To gain perspective,” I said.

And just like that, Phillip was gone. I lingered, my hand touching the tree. I decided to leap to first home, and I was suddenly there. Alish was there, meditating, but I saw something peculiar in her. She was dreaming! I could see her in the dream, and in her dream, she was Raine! I nearly had such a fit of euphoria I might have woke straight to my body, but I held my ground. I jumped again to Second Home. I found myself there, and suspected it was some future time, for there were people gathered I did not know. An elderly man with a cane, who reminded me a great deal of Shen, was standing by a counter, drinking coffee. A woman, or a cat, or a cat woman, ran by with a toddler that was also dressed like a cat, and they ended their flight on the

couch, jumping on the said furniture. Another child, also dressed up as if they were a cat, was fixated on a Lego train that was circling the base of a Christmas tree. Jon was there, in the arms of a woman who nearly drove me to jealousy, and I was about to say something when I realized the very woman was myself.

I approached, transfixed. I was seeing myself, I knew it was myself, with the very

physical features I knew myself best as, and yet, when I saw myself in the mirror, I would not see me, I would see Adelia, and I almost wanted to cry.

“What’s wrong?” Loxy asked Jon.

“I feel like we’re being watched,” Jon answered.

“Aren’t we always?” Loxy asked.

“Sure,” Jon said.

“He is out of sorts because we’re forcing Christmas on him,” Lester said.

“I am not,” Jon argued.

“You’ve been sulking ever since the tree went up,” Lester pointed out.

“Are you worried?” Loxy asked.

“Of course,” Jon said. “What does one get magicians? What do you give people who

have everything and want nothing?”

“If I find an empty box under the tree from you, Sir, I will be severely disappointed,”

Lester said.

“Coal seems appropriate,” Loxy suggested.

Jon frowned. “I left origin because I wasn’t fond of the traditions, and thought I’d make a new world,” he said.

“And so we have, but there is no need to throw the baby out with the bathwater,” Lester said.

“I have checked, Sir, there was no babies in there,” Jon said.

“Explain these kittens,” Lester demanded.

“Um, I cannot,” Jon said.

“Oh!” Fersia said. “Seriously?”

“Papa needs a hug,” the toddler with her said, and sprung from the couch and rushed and jumped into Jon’s arms. “We give love, Papa. That is our Christmas present.”

Jon cried. “Aww,” Loxy said, hugging the two of them, and then Fersia and the fraternal twin toddler joined in.

Lester put his cup down and proceeded to walk away.

“Give him some, too,” Jon insisted.

And the kids ran to ‘uncle Lester.”

And I woke up back in my body, or, Adelia’s body. God, the nuances of language are so pathetically poor at describing these reality slips. Oh, but there is perspective for you. Phillip was sound asleep, holding me close to him. I turned into him and soon faded. The next time I woke, I was being prodded by Phillip who was sound asleep, but in dream. I took advantage of his morning condition and woke him with my attention.

Chapter 21

After dressing, I went downstairs to find Raine preparing a light breakfast. Phillip joined us next, followed by Effie. If she had any clue as to where I spent the evening, she gave no evidence. As soon as our stomach were settled, we had an outing in which we were taken by carriage into Paris proper. This was a world before the Eiffel tower. It iss a world of change, no matter how hard we try and keep it the same. Markets were crashing and recovering. Jules Ferry had seen the fruition of laws he influenced whereby the French government now guaranteed education separate from religious activities. We saw such a school.

“It will be your down fall, secularizing your children’s education,” Effie said.

“It is being done everywhere,” Raine said.

We eventually arrived at a place where we were to have lunch. Shen brought the horses to a halt and Raine, Effie, I, and Phillip were delivered just so, that Raine was immediately recognize and we