The Writers' Circle

OTHER REALM 
      Sam's favorite time of day was at sunset to practice Aikido, and his favorite place was at the beach.  Yeah, most people thought practice was best in the early morning, but for Sam, the sunset during his moves seemed to add to the whole experience.  He was really into it today, totally in focus, all the intricate moves seemed to come so natural, so perfect and that freedom, perfection and focus had him floating on the waves of the Universe.  In this exalted spirit, he jumped up on a log, to perform an especially difficult move.  As he steadied himself into it, an exclamation of "Hell!" snapped the connection and brought himself back to reality, he lost his balance and fell into an especially deep tide pool.  Drenched, he waded his way out.  There, leaning back on his same log was a woman, jerked to full alertness from her nap.  Fiery eyes met his and an immediate flight or fight look showed her face in stark relief.  Around her were scattered papers, a sketchbook, and various pieces of clothing.
     "Hey!  It's okay.  I'm not going to rape you or rob you or anything.  I just got a little carried away practicing my Aikido and didn't see you there.  Here, let me help you gather up your papers."
     "You should pay more attention to what you're doing!  You scared me shitless.  Yeah, you can damm well gather my papers, after all, its your fault their all over, anyway."
     "Hey, I said I'm sorry," he said as he gathered papers.  "I'm Sam, by the way."
     "Isabelle" was the only answer he got.
     God!  She was gorgeous.  Even from that first snap back to reality he knew it.  Gotta keep this conversation going somehow, he thought.
    "So, do you come here often?" he asked.
    "Yes..  Aren't you a little cold?  You are wet, really wet."
     Okay, this could be hard.  What to say.   Damn the wet and cold, he wasn't going to let her walk out of his life like that. He looked down at the pages in his hand.  He saw sketches of a meadow surrounded by a forest with what looked like a shrine in the center of the meadow with a walkway leading to it.  The sketch, filled in with watercolor was exquisite.  He could almost feel like he was there.  What a beautiful place it seemed.  So serene, calm and enchanting!
     "Is this a real place, or from your imagination?  I can almost feel the breeze in the air and hear the wind whistling threw the trees.  These are truly magnificent."  He meant it, too.  If it worked to get her to open up, well that would be great, but just that look at the small painting was something.
     "Damn!  I can't find my pen and its special.  Its what I write all my first drafts with.  No, it's not a real place.  Not like you mean.  It's a real place in my imagination, though.  And, thank you for the compliment.  It means a lot to me that people can feel my world in my work.  Sorry I was so grumpy.  Let's start over.  My name is Isabelle and yours is Sam.  You practice Aikido.  I've always admired   martial arts that use passive resistance.  I am so not into violence.  But, your form, I admire."  Her voice was dark and smoky while being perfectly articulate.  Sam couldn't help but notice her long, thick, dark curly hair, her heart shaped face and the fine features.  Her eyes he couldn't make out in the darkening evening, but he could see they were large and almond shaped.  Her mouth full, not so full as those actresses that got injections to plumped up their lips, but just full enough.
     "No, I'm not into violence either.  But, I am into the mental focus combined with the movements.  How mind and body work together and when the connection happens, its pure magic.  I forget the world, any problems I might have, and I forget even my individuality in the Universe.  Its like I become a part of the whole of life.  It is so different than my work, that is what makes it so precious."  He answered, no longer just trying to prolong getting to know this woman as just a date, but as a person.  God, she had a great compact little body, short, but curves in all the right places.  But it was more.  Some part of him knew this meeting was important.  That it was meant to be.
     "But, we are going to find that pen."
     Isabelle was also thinking that this encounter was somehow important.  She had a for reading people and situations, but this one was resounding in her head as one of those special moments that meant something of importance was going to come of this encounter.  She'd never experienced that feeling when meeting a man.  It happened when she was writing, drawing and painting.  Or, knowing what contract was right, or what piece of furniture or garden plans to choose.
     "I'm lucky, my work almost always feels like magic," she said with a smile of such joy that Sam's heart took a leap.
     "And what is it you do that feels so magic.  No, wait, I didn't mean that to sound condescending, I really do want to know", he amended when he noticed a flicker of her closing down.  Now, she looked opened up again.
     "I write and illustrate a series of children's books called the Other Realm Stories.  That sketch in your hand will eventually be an illustration in a story.  That's just a preliminary sketch.  It needs some work, but I really think it's going to work."  As she spoke of her work, the enthusiasm shone across her face, even in the rapidly approaching darkness.  The search for the pen continued, but looked like it was gone for good.
     "I wish I had a profession that gave me such joy.  I work as a software developer for Microsoft.  At least I am lucky enough to be able to do most of my work here in Bellingham instead of King County.  The whole urban thing just.well, it hurts my head to even be around.  And, I'm good at what I do, so they let me have the freedom to work where I feel comfortable.  Is this too personal?  Are you published?"  That last question may have been a deal breaker, he realized.  Whatever possessed him to ask?  If she wasn't successful, he'd blown it.
     "Yes.  I'm published.  You're obviously not an expert on the bestseller for children lists.  Four of my books have hit best-seller status and the rest, six others, have done very well, too.  Most of the publicity is on the Harry Potter series, but I'm definitely up there.  Oh, shit, now I'm sounding like I'm bragging.  I'm really not.  It's just still so amazing to me that something I love so much has reached and maybe touched so many other lives and made me a ton of money in the process.  I am truly blessed, " and she looked truly at awe of her success.  Something more in Sam opened up.
  "Oh, hell, the tide. It's coming in fast!  I forgot all about it.  And, its dark.  I don't suppose you brought yourself a flashlight?' she asked.
     "No, I didn't know about the tide, but I was planning on going back before it got dark."  Isabelle found a small flashlight in her backpack. "Can you shine that thing over that way, hopefully by the moonlight, I can find my way back up the bluff."
     But, when Isabelle shone the light around, their true situation became apparent.  Two large rocks and several large logs were all that had kept them from already being flooded.
     "Okay, the only way up is the trail here from my place.  Just don't get wet..oh damn," she exclaimed as Sam, in his looking around had leaped onto a slippery log and fallen back into the water.
     "Your going to think I am the most clumsy man on Earth if this keeps up, but, I did find the pen." he said, teeth chattering.
     "My hero.  Just follow me," was Isabelle's response.
     The trail up the bluff was well traveled and easy to walk, even if it felt totally vertical.  At the top, Sam saw a charming expanse of gardens, a fountain, little gravel-lined pathways going off around bends, huge old trees, a small lap pool/hot tub combo right off a large brick patio.  A set of chairs and a table with umbrella sat at one end by the bar-b-que.  The side nearest the pool had several lounge chairs and glass tables.  Everywhere he looked, there were flowers.  Pots, big and small in groups, at strategist points on the patio, hanging planters, a whole wall of sweet peas climbing a trellis, An arbor over the gate wall heavy with climbing roses and clematis.  The latticework cover over the first few feet of the patio was heavy with wisteria.  He noticed a small, formal rose garden to one side with a pathway of crushed gravel leading to a covered seating area with plump cushioning.  And statues!  There were statues he recognized as reproductions of Eve emerging from the seashell, one of Venus with her arms cut off.  From the fountain, a small stream trickled, meandering about with an arched bridge crossing it.  And the smells!  He smelt the sweet peas, lilies, roses, jasmine, and honeysuckle.  It was like a small, private paradise.  He just stood in awe.
     "I take it you like gardens, " Isabelle chuckled.
     "Yeah, I like gardens.  But this.  This is like a piece of heaven.  Do you do most of the gardening yourself, or do you have a gardener, a designer?' he asked.
     "No, I do most of the work myself, except digging really big holes and I admit I had the arbors, bridge and benches made, as well as the patio laid and the gravel put into the paths.  Of course, the pool and tub were made professionally and installed, as were the lighting done. I designed it though.  I knew what I wanted.  I had a vision and then, with help, created that vision.  But, come on.  Let's get you out of those wet clothes and into a warm robe while I wash and dry your clothes," she said, walking towards one of three pairs of French doors that opened onto the patio.
     "No, I can't put you through all that.  But, maybe a ride back to my car?  It's a couple miles up and wet with the sun down..." he trailed off.  Hell, here was his chance to get to know her better, and he's talking about leaving.  What an idiot.
     "Don't be an idiot.  Just come in, take a shower and I'll wash and dry your clothes", she said, leading him inside the door.
     Sam was immediately struck dumb by the interior of the house.  All that really registered was a little of white, a lot of plants, a lot of mirrors, a lot of bold stuff and a lot of intriguing items before Isabelle led him to a bathroom and handed him a robe.
     "Its Andy's robe.  I don't think he'd mind lending it to a good cause.  There's towels and washcloths in the cabinet," she said as she handed the robe to him.
     "Are you and Andy, well.."?Sam started.
     "An item?  Unfold the robe and see what you think, " she said with a little quirk.
     The robe Sam unfolded was royal purple with pink satin detail.  On the back was an extravagant pink, lavender and blue dragon.
      "I take it Andy is gay"
       " Yup, He just stays when he use where he need s hustle and bustle of Seattle," she said as she lead him the guest bath and bedroom. 
       The first thing he noticed as he walked into the room was the lavender blue wall.  Periwinkle.  That was the color.  There was a pedestal sink and a slate floor.  Above, the mirror was ornate, vintage silver.  As he stripped down and put his clothes outside the door he inspected the room further.  A vintage open cabin was filled with white the towels and washcloths, an antique kitchen gadget were filled with shampoos, conditioner, bath salts, and soaps he'd never even heard of. Cologne, perfume, Q-tips. Nail files, toothbrushes, toothpaste and dental floss   Nail-files, nail polish, shaving cream and Tampax, vials and jars of skincare stuff and an oval mirror and silver tray with an amazingly small amount of cosmetics.  Enough snooping.  He stepped in the shower.  Ah!  It had a great shower massage and pressure.
      When he stepped out into the hall, he wasn't sure which way to go.
     "Isabelle?" he called.
    He smelt her before he saw or heard her.  God, that woman smelled great.
     "I'm making us a quick dinner of Cesar salad, rice pilaf and we'll grill skewers of prawns and eat on the patio our back, okay?" she said as she led him into what must be her main living space.  "Sit down while I finish up a few things."
     "Hey, you didn't have to go to all the trouble of making dinner and all," he said, silently thanking the Gods for a few more hours with this amazing woman.
     "First.  It's no trouble.  And, second, don't you get some sort of feeling like, well, the way we met and all, the tide.  Maybe there's a reason for it.  I don't know, maybe I'm a bit into the idea of maybe coincidences aren't always just coincidences, you know?" she looked a little like she felt she might be some kind of kook, or something, but also like she believed what she was saying.
    " No.  Sometimes coincidences aren't just coincidences, are they," he said as he looked her full in her eyes for the first time.  Her eyes were brown with hypnotizing speaks of gold floating through them.   He felt he was falling through free space without a parachute.  Or falling under some kind of spell.  The look took but a few seconds, but felt never-ending.  And, then with a smile, she walked back into the kitchen.
     Wow!  He needed to sit down.  That was intense.  As intense, if not more, than the most intimate sex he ever had.  No comparison.  Nope.  Coming back to earth, he started looking around the room.  Why was he not surprised it was as intriguing as its owner. One entire wall was windows, with French doors leading outside.  The walls, the very comfortable sofa and its matching oversize chair and ottoman were also white.  All the rest of the furniture was either antique or at least vintage. Two sets of lawyer bookcases stood at one wall, a gas fireplace was on another and one corner was dominated by an old armoire.  The coffee table, end tables, and a drop-leaved table all looked like they'd been wooden garden furniture in another life.  The floors were hardwood with what he thought was a Keratin rug of an open pattern of muted leaves.  The table held an aquarium, filled he saw, with tiny eons.  But the rest of it was really what made it Isabelle's.  Plants that touched the high, crown-molded ceilings, plants on old wooden benches, old chairs, atop the armoire, sitting on rails of an old wooden ladder, and crowed into every space.  He knew few of there names, but they were all lush and full.  Others, he knew, like the profusion of orchids, the daffodils, the tulips and heathers, but many of the other flowering plants, he didn't recognize.  And books.  There were books everywhere.  Not just in the stuffed bookshelves, but here and there among the plants, on the tops of tables, piled next to the couch as well as the chair.  One small, lamp with a beaded lampshade was on, but all the other light came from the fireplace and the dozens of lit white candles scattered around the room.  Some in trios of crystal candelabrum, other groups of fat round candles in various sizes, and some just one crystal candlestick by itself, or a grouping of tea lights floating along with flower pedals in the great glass bowel on the coffee-table.  He saw other things, a crstal ball on the mantle place, boxes of metal, of wood, of crystal. A three-foot tall weathered white globe-like thing one saw in gardens.  Statues.  One large one, a lovely reproduction of Venus de Milo.  Most were of women or animals.  He knew he couldn't take it all in right now.  There was so much to see.  The paintings!  They all seemed to be by the same artist, one he knew the name of, "The Lady Of Shalot", but they were all mystical, as though they'd been painted from mythology.  And mirrors, mirrors reflecting the whole scene over and over.  He realized, with a start, that he already loved this room, and, oddly that the room loved him in return.  Wanted him to spend time here.  Read some of those books, watch the neon flit around, sit and watch the flames in the fire, or stand by the windows and watch the bay as spring gave way to summer, to fall to winter, and back to spring again as the fragrance of the flowers, candles, and incense washed over him.
     Suddenly, there was a new smell, that signature scent of Isabelle.
     "You snuck up on me.  I was totally lost in this room.  It's a world all of its own.  Its, its.." 
     "Its magical." she softly supplied.
     ""Yes.  Magical."
     He stood up and they studied one another silently.
     He's fair with deep blue eyes and I'm usually attacked to dark hair and eyes.  He's tall, wide-shouldered and tall but slender.  He had clumsiness to him, but she'd seen him move with uncommon grace.  I can see the intellect, the education, but there are so many things he knows nothing of.  But, he's open.  Open to new thoughts, ideas, beliefs.  Open perhaps because he's never been taught or taken the time to form his own strong beliefs.  She saw some resistance to become more, to be totally comfortable in his own world, his own head.  But, I also see him capable of forming his own strong beliefs and knew instinctively they'd be beliefs of virtue: honor, courage, and protection of those needing his protection.  She saw a man, a very attractive, not yet totally formed, but capable of great things, she thought.
     He saw a slender, but pleasantly rounded woman of a bit below average height with great masses of almost black hair, curling around her face, her shoulders, mid-way down her back.  He saw intelligence, education, perhaps not of the traditional kind like his, but he saw the wisdom within.  But, beyond the beauty, the intellect, the wisdom and the creative gifts he'd seen, he saw her a woman sure of herself, a woman without the neediness or the greediness or the insecurity he'd seen so much of in his relationships.  He saw a woman happy with her own life the way it was, without the need for a man to fulfill her.  But, a passionate woman who, when she choose to have a man in her life would open up her life, her world, her body and her heart.and expect the same in return.  A voice inside him said he could never be that open to someone else, that he was lacking.  She couldn't possibly be attracted to him.  He wasn't anyone special.  Just a guy who wrote computer programs, watched T.V., hung out with his friends at bars or at each other's houses to watch sports.  Hell, he only read a book unless it was a best-seller thriller, and then only if he was bored.  But, another part of him said, "Yes, I can be the man you open yourself to, and I can be as open with you." And, for an instant he thought he heard her say, "Yes, we can be that to one another."  But no words had been spoken.
     Isabelle smiled and said, "Lets eat," and the moment was broken. She led him through another pair of French doors, through a dimly lit kitchen, through more French doors and out onto the back patio.  She had apparently moved the glass topped table and two chairs from their usual place under the wisteria laden arbor, so it was out under the clear black sky with only the full moon, the stars and the lit candles on the table as lighting.  There was a large plate at both settings with rice pilaf and a smaller one of salad.  Two wine glasses sat empty and a bottle of wine in a bucket of crushed ice sat near the table.  She motioned him over to the built in grill and to a platter next to it. As he lifted the platter over, she picked up the four skewers of prawns and laid them on the platter.
     "I really do hope you like prawns, " she said, as they walked over to the table.  I'm mostly a vegetarian, but I do love my seafood.  Its something about eating something that is dead that bothers me, but for some reason, prawns and fish don't bother me."
     "I adore prawns, and just about all seafood.  Although, I must admit, I like my meat, too," he answered as he laid the platter on the table.  "What kind of wine are we drinking, besides being white, of course?"
  "It's a Chablis from a little known winery right here in Whatcom County.  I try to support local business as much as possible, and with this wine I can combine my politics and my palate," she said as she poured the glasses and sat down.  "Let's eat!"
     The food was superb, the wine as fine as Isabelle as said.  At first their hunger held their attention, but Sam's head was full of questions.
     "How long have you been a mostly vegetarian? He asked.
     "Since I was able to choose what I ate and what I didn't."
     "And, when was that?  When you took off for college?" he asked.
    "Actually, no.  I left my aunt and uncle's home as soon as I could become an emancipated adult at age sixteen.  Then, I lived on my own and went to Western Washington University, right here in Bellingham," she replied in a tone that most men would have realized meant, enough about that.  But, Sam wasn't most men, and didn't take the hint.
     "Boy, living on your own at sixteen?  What about high school?  Where did you live? Were you by yourself or with room-mates?" he fired at her.
     With a soft sigh, she put down her fork and wiped her mouth with her napkin.  "No, I didn't have any room-mates.  I lived right here.  This was my Grandmother's house and she left and a small inheritance, as I mentioned earlier.  She was quite sick the last two years of her life, and when she died when I was eight, the house stood empty for the next six years.  It was quite as mess when I did move in.  I had to do some major renovations on the interior and the gardens were terribly overgrown, full of weeds and dead or dying plants.  I pretty much had my hands full.  But, this was where I wanted to be, and the house and grounds seemed to want me here, as well.  So, with some incredible interior designers working on the inside and other incredible garden designers for the exterior, we all sat down and created my vision of how this home should be.  And, I think it all went quite well," she picked up her wineglass, indicating that the questions had been more than answered.
     "But, you were what, sixteen?  And living here alone and making all those huge decisions?  What about your family?  Your parents?"  He began to go on, but she stopped him by saying.
     "My parents both died in an auto accident when I was six.  Besides my Grandmother, who died when I was eight, the only family I had was my father's brother. Robert, and his wife, Marie.  It was felt my Grandmother was too old and too sick to care for a six-year-old, so I went to my aunt and uncle's.  It was not a very good situation, and I got away, legally, as soon as I could.  Believe me, I found out that trying to runaway illegally was a really poor idea.  So, no, I was not lonely and I did quite well on my own.  Since I had already graduated from high school in June, just six weeks after I turned sixteen, I was able to take that summer and fall quarter to get the house the way I wanted.  Then, I started at Western that winter quarter."  By the end of this speech even Sam could see he had hit some buttons.
     "Hey, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to grill you through your entire life's story.  You'd graduated at sixteen?  That's wild, no, wait, sorry, no more inquiries about your past, tell me more about Isabelle, now," he tried with apology.
     "No, you did not grill me though my entire life's history, just a summary of the facts.  I was a good student and school was one of the things I was..shall we say, encouraged at.  And I think we have had just about enough about me.  How about your life history?  She questioned with a smile that told him he had been more than forgiven any intrusions into her life.
     "Well, I'm the fourth youngest of six kids.  Yeah, Catholic.  Fortunately, Dad was a successful Catholic, so we grew up with enough money to go around.  One of my older sibs is a guy, one's a girl, two of the younger are also sisters and the baby is a boy.  I grew up on Queen Ann hill in Seattle.  I went to Queen Ann high school, then went to the U of W, got a BA and then a MA in computer science.  Got a job writing software at Microsoft when they started out.  When my high school and college buddies decided to try life in a smaller town and picked Bellingham for the snow-boarding, I arranged my job to be on-line and moved up here with them," he recited.  He left out the football.  It wasn't important anymore, besides, he instinctively knew it wouldn't impress her anyway.
     "Talk about the boy next door!  Except for the Masters in computer science.  That's no walk in the park.  What do you do for fun?" she asked, pouring the last glass of wine.  "Here, let me clear up these dishes and I'll meet you back in the front room.  No, I can take care of it.  You just go in and relax," she said as he started to help.
     Back in the front room, he glanced over at her books again.  There, almost hidden, he saw six volumes of young adult books with the author listed as Isabelle McIntire.  Curious, he opened the glass door, and pulled the books out and settled down in the big chair, swinging his long legs up on the ottoman.  He was so engrossed, that he never noticed Isabelle come into the room.
     "No!  Those are just kid's books.  You don't need to read them, " she all but shouted as she picked up all six books.
     "I was just curious about your work.  Wow!  You've won the Newbury Prize twice and I don't know how many other awards.  Why didn't you tell me you were such a famous author?" He was totally astonished at her reaction.
     "Did you tell me every detail of your life, either?  I'm no whiss at football, but I noticed you failed to mention you played quarterback at the U of W and there was talk of a big career ahead of you.  Some things are private, for one reason or another, and my work is meant for my young readers and me, okay?" She looked shaken and upset.
     "But, Isabelle.  They are marvelous!  Any reader of any age would love them!  The illustrations alone make The Other Realm seem like a real place, and the little I read sucked me right into the whole world.  I'm a big Star Wars fan, and these could be just as big as those or the Harry Potter books.  Those are best sellers.  Why no movies?" he asked, sincerely perplexed.
     "Because I don't want any "movie deals".  I want my books to be exactly what they are.  Books for young people to read, dream about, use their own imaginations.  Not everything has to be on the screen.  I want those kids to read, to feel the power of books and their ability to make their imaginations soar," she answered with passion flushing her face.
     "Okay, okay.  No more talk about movies, or your books either, if you want.  Can't we just sit and talk awhile longer?  I see that tray of coffee over there you set down.  Can't we just drink some coffee?  Talk a little while longer? " He was desperate, now.  He did not want this evening ending on a bad note.  He'd known since that long look before dinner that this was one woman he really wanted to get to know.  More than he'd ever wanted to get to know another woman.
     "Okay.  Why don't you go get dressed?  Your clothes are in the bathroom.  That pink peacock has really got to go," she had that quirky smile back on her face.
     "Great idea.  I'd actually forgotten about the peacock.  But now that you bring it up, its gotta go."  Thank God.  She was smiling again.
     When he got back from changing, the coffee been poured.  Done just like he liked it, with that caramel-vanilla blend creamer in int.  How did she know that?  Or did she drink it that way too.  No, he could smell the chocolate in hers.  Must be something like she ran out of one or the other.  They sat and drank their coffee and talked some more.  The topics were ones he wasn't used too:  politics, the need for an alternative to fossil fuel, the devastation of the rain forest.  But, he surprised himself by knowing more than he thought he knew about that stuff.  All he really knew was he didn't want this time to end.  But, Isabelle was starting to yawn and he noticed it was well past midnight.
     "Hey, maybe you ought to give me that ride before you fall out and I end up having to walk, anyway," he said.
     "You're right.  This is way past my bedtime.  But, the company's been so good.  I just didn't want you to leave for a while.  But, its time now.  Ready?"
     As they walked around to the garage he saw a perfectly restored 1969 MGB.
     "Wow!  Now, that's a car," he said.
     "My dad always took me on the car rides at Woodland Park Zoo when we went there.  He always said he'd buy me one when I graduated from college.  So, I bought myself one.  It handles like a dream.  Maybe some day I'll let you drive her, but not tonight.  She hasn't gotten to know you yet," she answered.
     Someday I'll let you drive her!  So, at least she's not thinking this is a one-night deal.  Thank all the Gods!  Especially those of Love.  Did I just think Love?  Sam was silent the rest of the way to his car.
     "Well," he said, as he was getting out of the car.  That's the best drenching in the bay I could have dreamed of."  I want to kiss her.  I really want to kiss her.  But, it just doesn't feel right, yet.  And, since when do I care if it's the right time to kiss a girl?  Have sex with one, maybe.  But kiss?  What is going on with me?
     Isabelle reached for his hand, "You forgot to get my number, weren't you going to call me?" she asked with that smile.  They held hands a little longer than was necessary to hand over a card.  Sam felt like he'd been more than kissed.
     "I'm in the phone book.  Sam, not Samuel, McMurray.  It's the only one in the book," and why did he feel like they'd just exchanged more than just phone numbers.  He felt like he'd just taken marriage vows, for Christ sakes.  She released his hand, smiled and said, "Bet I call you first!' And smiled that smile.  He could feel it as he walked to his car and got in, like a presence in his head.  Sure enough, when he got in his seat and looked in his rearview mirror, she was still smiling.  And, then with a tot of her horn, she drove away.
     I think I just fell in love.  I just met her and I think, I know I love her.  Is there really such thing as love at first sight?  Thoughts of Isabelle, her smile, her voice, her smell, her words and most of all her touch filled his head as he drove home, got ready for bed and turned out the light.  Oh, and the question.  Can love really happen that fast?  Those thoughts and that question filled his dreams.
     The next morning, she was the first thought in his mind.  Then the phone rang.
     "Told you I'd call you first.  Have a great day.' and with that, she hung up.  Leaving him even more besotted then he'd been already.
     That day on a break from work, Sam went to the closest bookstore and bought the entire Other Realm series.  He felt a little like he was betraying Isabelle's trust, but he wanted to read them.  He wanted to know her.  He stayed up late that night, reading.  That night his dreams were filled with visions of another world where peace, beauty and knowledge were the markers of success.
     The next day Sam's mind wasn't on his work, so he allowed some extra meditation time.  Then, his mind was clear.  He had figured out what kind of date to ask Isabelle for.  A dinner at an expensive restaurant, his usual way to impress a woman, felt totally wrong.  What he decided on was a hike.  A hike Matt had taken him on last year that had totally blown him away.  Twin Lakes, up Mt. Baker highway and then 7 miles up a logging road to the trailhead.  Then, three miles up at 1000 feet of elevation for each mile.  Totally above the tree line and top of the worldviews of all the mountains in the Cascades.  He'd pack a backpack with lunch and a blanket.  For a moment he thought of Isabelle's cooking and the aspect of his preparing a meal, but it was lunch and backpacked in, so it wouldn't have to be too elaborate.  Feeling good about his choice he got out the card Isabelle had given him with her number on it.  The card was already worn from the times he'd taken it out of his wallet; just to look at it, to feel her.  This time he was going to use it.
     "Hi!  Isabelle?  It's Sam"
     "I thought maybe you lost my card."
     "Ah, no, just busy.  Hey, tomorrows supposed to be a beautiful day, sunny, warm.  I was thinking, would you like to go on a hike with me?"  He realized he was holding his breath.  Gotta breath, he told himself.  "Oh, and since its Thursday, the trails won't be as full.  I thought I'd pack a lunch and we could, well, just take in the scenery."
     "And where are we to take this hike and picnic."
     "A place named Twin Lakes up Mt, Baker.  It's a steep hike, but worth the view."
     "Sure, Sam.  I'd love to hike to Twin Lakes with you.  What time?  Probably should be early, it's a long drive.  And, no, we aren't taking my MG up any logging roads."
     "No, I'll pick you up in my car.  About 10:00?'
     "Sounds good to me.  Did you like my books?"
     "Your books?"
     "I know you went out and bought them.  Never mind, tell me what you thought on the drive.  See you at 10:00."      Well, that went well. Except being caught about the book.

CHAPTER TWO

     The day began full of radiant fall sunshine, complete with crispness in the air.  Sam loved that smell.  He loved the way the Fall sun seemed to add a special clearness to everything it fell on     "This is going to be great," he thought, "perfect day, a drive through the lower hills with the leaves changing color."
     He 'd thought about buying a deluxe picnic basket from a specialty store, but instead had just bought the plates, silverware, a tablecloth, a thermos and plastic wine glasses that looked like real glass.  He figured that would be best for a backpack.  He'd ordered a packed lunch from The Pope's Bistro, making sure it was all vegetarian except his prime rib sandwich.  He bought a good bottle of white wine and carefully poured the very chilled wine in the thermos, laid the dinnerware ate the bottom of his backpack with the lunch on top and the thermos to the side.  He rolled up a thick quilt and put it in the straps for a sleeping bag.
    "All I'm missing is the flowers, " he thought.  Then, he grabbed a tall plastic glass.  "I'll pick some flowers when we get there." he thought.
     Even as prepared as he was, he couldn't help feeling nervous.  He knew not to use any scented products for hiking, but it didn't keep him from styling and restyling his hair.  Clothes.  He needed to look like a serious hiker, but hip.  He finally decided on an old, faded worn pair of 501's, a thermal Henley, down vest and his hiking boots.  Appraising himself in the mirror, he decided he gotten the look he was after.  He threw the pack in the backseat and drove off.
     When Isabelle opened the door, neither one of them could help but chuckle.  They'd dressed like twins, right down to the blue Henley, except hers was powder blue and his was darker.  By the Gods, she was beautiful!  Today her wild curls were tamed into a French braid, but tendrils had escaped, framing her face and twirling across the back of her neck.  He wanted to kiss that neck.  He wanted to slowly unbraid that hair and run his fingers through it and.
     "Have I passed inspection?" said with that quirk of a smile.
     "Ah.yeah.  Sorry to stare.  I was just mentally going over if I'd packed" he started
     "Right. And here I thought you were thinking how I dress down well.  Let's go, hotshot.  Oh, what have we here, a Lexus 09?  Not too into Green, are we."
     "I'll have you know, this vehicle has ultra-low emissions.  Plus, it has crawl control for rough terrain, won't roll back when your foots off the accelerator, the suspension adjusts to road surfaces and the steering adjusts to be more sensitive at lower speeds.  The perfect ride for a drive up 7 miles of logging roads."
     "Okay.  I'm sold.  But aren't you afraid that shiny silver paint-job might get scratched or that beautiful black leather interior might get dirty?" she asked.
     "I bought it for doing this kind of thing.  It's my first major purchase for my new Whatcom County lifestyle.  Plus, it's already been on several trips up the mountain on logging roads, and none the less for wear.  Well, except for that scratch there.  Oh, and those there..Hell!  I don't care how scratched up or dirty it gets.  I got it for performance," he ended, a bit defensively.
     "Okay.  Sorry I misjudged you.  I can see by the scratches you've used it well in a short time.  And, I can't wait to ride in it.  I like luxury as much as most anyone.  I was really just teasing you.  You're not used to being teased, are you?"
     He thought about that for a moment.
     "No, I guess I'm not.  At least as an adult.  Got plenty of it as a kid."  Weird how she gets me to be so introspective.
     "Well, get used to it, hotshot, cuz I'm a big teaser," By the quirk of his eyebrow she could tell he was thinking if that teasing had a double meaning.  "You'll just have to find out how much of a tease I am," she laughed.
    They drove with the sunroof and windows open, the radio tuned up high on an 80's station.  When "Leather and Lace" came on by Steveie Nicks and Don Henley came on, they'd both been singing along to the other songs, but on that one, they were both strangely quiet.  Then when they hit the foothills, they turned the radio down to give nature her due.
     "Look at that red one!" 
     "That splash of the orange grove in the center of the evergreens!  Spectacular!"
     "I love the way all the colors compliment each other.  God sure did a great job landscaping."
     The conversation continued along those lines until they came upon the landmark, Carol's Coffee-Cup.
     "We gotta stop here.  There's no real ride up the mountain without a piece of pie with coffee at Carol's, said Sam.
    "On that we totally agree."
    Once they were settled at an outdoor overlooking a stream they both became lost in their thoughts.
     "Got a question for you.  Why Bellingham?" asked Isabelle.
      "I told you, my friends, Eric, Aaron, and Matt decided to move here for all the outdoor stuff.  Especially snowboarding.   Eric's actually pretty good and has been in several competitions including The Chevy Grand Prix in Colorado.  Besides Mt. Baker, where Shawn White got his wings, we're close to Steven's Pass.  It's said to be one of the top ten snowboard sites."
     "And, all four of us are into Kayaking too, especially Matt.  He and Aaron are also into rock climbing-I'm not.  Climbing scares the shit out off me.  But they both also kayak and snowboard.  We're all into mountain biking, but Aaron is the champ there.  We did Ski to Sea last year and came in 19th, which is pretty good. 
    "You've told me why your friends moved here, and I get that you wanted to be where they were, but.Bellingham's, what 100 miles from Seattle?  There must be more to it than that.  A disastrous relationship?  Fight with your family?  What?" she was staring at him intently now and it made him feel uncomfortable.
     "No disastrous or otherwise relationship to run from.  I'm great with all my family.  I just needed a change and when the guys were taking about possibilities like Mt. Vernon, Whidbey Island, etc, when the city Bellingham came up I just felt..well, I guess the idea had a pull on me.  So, I voted for Bellingham and the others went along.  I don't know, life in the city seemed so meaningless and for some reason I felt I might find some meaning here."  Boy, where did that all come from.  He'd never really analyzed why Bellingham before.
     "Why the third degree, anyway?" he asked, feeling a little annoyed and somehow exposed.
     "I just wanted to know.  Sorry it felt like I was out of line.  I was just curious." 
     By now the coffee and pie were long gone and it was time to start driving again.  They were both silent and the radio signals were going in and out.  Sam suggested she find a CD.  When she choose an old one, Sade's Greatest Hits, Sam wasn't surprised.  The music suited her and the mood.  The familiar music gave him time to think.  Maybe this hadn't been such a great idea.  Isabelle was so much more intense than any other woman he'd dated.  Plus, she kept asking him questions and wouldn't settle for the easiest answers.  She wasn't like any of the women he'd dated:  impressed by his financial success, his college football-almost pro history, into fashion and shopping, eating at fine restaurants, talking about movies and music.  Like right now, he'd put so much thought and effort into this date where usually dinner and a movie was his thing.  This was no regular, usual no. And then the song "No Ordinary Love" came on and he realized why he'd been trying to talk himself out of falling for Isabelle. This could be no ordinary love.
     Several miles later they hit the town of Glacier and right after that crossed into the North Cascades National forest.  The atmosphere in the car changed as they drove through the miles of evergreen forest. The trees were so tall and the forest so thick.  With no other cars on the road it felt like they'd entered a cathedral.  Peace and serenity seemed to flow into the car with the smell of pine.  When Isabelle slipped her hand into his it felt like the most natural thing in the world.  And the most profound.  When they came to the turnoff to the logging road the driving became more difficult.  Isabelle withdrew her hand so he could steer better, but the feel of her hand stayed with him.
     "Boy!  These are some steep drop-offs.  You've driven this before, right?"
     "Yeah, I've driven them before and it's not as bad as you think.  There's a few hairy turns, but nothing to worry about.  Don't worry, you're safe." Safe with me, he thought.
    "Oh, look at all those stumps.  Poor forest.  It feels sad.  It's not like this where we're going, is it?  I couldn't bear it," Sam was surprised to hear real sadness in her voice.
     "No, where we are going is nothing like this.  For one thing, it's above the tree line, so no trees to cut.  And, I think its protected land.  I'm not sure, but I think the Forest Service keeps the major trails cut free."
     "I remember a few years ago a big controversy about cutting some of the last old growth forest.  We won, didn't we?"
     "Yes, Isabelle, we won.  It's still there.  If we have time today I'll take you there.  If not, we'll go another time," he answered.
     "I'd like that."
     After seven miles of forest road, they came to the trailhead.
     "Look way up there, Isabelle.  That's where we're going."
     The trail started out easy and passing through a glacier fascinated Isabelle.  The trail began to get steeper soon and the small talk they'd exchanged became more of breathing.  They came to a waterfall and took off they're boots and socks and rolled up their jeans.  The water was frigid, running down off a glacier, but they'd worked up enough of a sweat that it felt good.  Isabelle kept stopping and staring at all the mountain peaks surrounding them.  They seemed to go on forever, turning paler purple the further away.  Many had snow on the tops.
     "Do you know the names of the mountains?" she asked.
     "Well. Mt Shuksan, most people think it's Mt. Baker, but it's not.  And that's Border Pass.  Once we get to the lakes we'll be able to see Tomyhoil."
     "It's all so spectacular.  Thank you, Sam."
     "Your welcome, but its God you should really thank."
     "You talk about God a lot.  Are you religious?"
     "I spent 18 years in a Catholic home with Mass every Sunday and CCD classes every Wednesday evening."
     "What's CCD classes?'
     Where you learn about the Bible and stuff.  Sort of like school, but about the church.  Anyway, I still go to Mass if I'm visiting the family on a Sunday and I rarely miss Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve.  But, am I religious?  Not really.  I think the Catholic Church has messed up a lot of people and I disagree on a lot of principles like divorce and abortion.  No, I don't think I'm religious.  Maybe spiritual would be closer.  I don't think about it much, really.  Why?  Are you religious?"  Please say no, he thought, visions of celibacy flitting through his mind.  
     "No.  I never went to church as a child.  As an adult I've tried several faiths, but they all seemed so stiff and rigid.  I've read that all major religions say basically to love one another.  If that was what religion was about, I'd be there.  But, it's not. Now, spiritual-that's a whole different thing.  I believe that living life to the fullest, loving to the fullest, having my personal beliefs and values, oh, and creating, that's what being spiritual means to me.  And, it is the way I try to live my life."
     "I admire you, Isabelle.  After the childhood you had, to have such faith in life and in love.  Well, it's inspiring.  And, I could see a lot of your brand of spirituality shing through in your books."
     They'd turned the last turn and there, spread before them was the glory that was Twin Lakes.  Two lakes so clear you could see down to the bottom, separated by a strip of land all in a cup of a valley with mountain peaks soaring above them in every direction.  The ground was not grass, but moss and wildflowers grew in profusion.  They picked out a spot with the best view and Sam spread out the quilt.  Then he unpacked his pack, laid down the tablecloth first and began to set out the prepared lunch.
     "Let me help."
     "No, I just want you to enjoy.  Take a look around.  I'll be done in a minute."  After he'd spread everything out, he picked three wildflowers and filled the vase from the lake.
     "All ready," he called.
     After enjoying a superb lunch and a long hike Sam began to feel drowsy.  The next thing he knew, he woke up with Isabelle's body snuggled up to his.  The warm contours of her body was tantalizing.  Unable to resist seeing her face asleep, he leaned up on his elbow and just marveled at the symmetrical beauty of her face.  Feeling his gaze on her face her eyes opened and she gave a lazy smile.  Bending his head down, he brushed her lips with his. He could taste the carmal from the cheesecake they'd eaten mixed with the sweetness of her breath.  He leaned back again and looked at her, gauging her reaction.  In answer she reached her  arms went around his shoulders and brought him back down for another, longer kiss.
     Her lips were so soft and smooth, he could feel her teeth behind her lips.  The sun seemed to warm up and in some part of his mind, Sam was aware of the breeze feeling like a gentle carass.  When the kiss ended Isabelle up on her elbow.
     "Not bad, hotshot," she grinned.
     "Hey, I was just getting started!"
     "I'm aware of that, but I think that little family with the two little boys might not have enjoyed the show.  Hum, on second thought, the boys look about 12 or 13, so they might have enjoyed it.  But mom and dad?  Them I don't think would have been so impressed."
     Sam turned his head, and sure enough, there was a family of four not 20 feet away.  Hell.
     "It's been a delightful day, but maybe we should start packing up and heading home.  I'm sort of working on a deadline and need to get some work done tonight," she said as she got on her knees and began picking up the remains of the picnic.
     "You have to work tonight?
     "Yup.  That's what they pay me the big bucks to do."
     The way down the trail took only a quarter of the time to go down than to hike up.  Sam was quiet, wondering where he stood with this woman.  She'd been responsive enough to the kisses.  Very responsive.  But, did she really have to work, or was she just brushing him off with an excuse.  After a mile of silence, Isabelle grabbed his hand, and stood in front of him.
     "You're wondering if I really have to work or just blowing you off, aren't you?  I really do have to get some work done.  I should have been at it all day, but I really wanted to go on this hike with you.  Everything is okay, okay?"
     "How'd you know, oh never mind.  You always seem to know what I'm thinking.  Okay."
     The rest of the way down was spent pointing out different views and spots of beuty they hadn't seen going up.  All too soon they were in the car and traveling down the logging road again.
     "You don't seem as scared going down as you were going up."
     "I trust you."
     "Do you?  Does that mean we can talk about your books?"
     "Yes, we can talk about my books."
     "Where did you come up with The Other Realm?  I mean, its like a whole complete world, so detailed.  And the characters.  Its as if they are real."
     "They are real to me and so is the world."  Isabelle stopped there while an inner debate went on in her head.  "Okay, here's the story.  I told you my Aunt Marie was unpleasant.  Wel, one of her ways to deal with me was to lock me in a dark closet when Uncle Rick wasn't home.  And he was gone a lot.  While I was in that closet all I had was my imagination.  And, one day it was like a window opened and a man's face was looking at me with concern.  He said "You poor child.  Come with me and you can be here, in the Other Realm whenever you want.  And, there it all was.  I felt like I'd walked through a door into another world.  In a way, I guess I did.  From that point on, I never minded the closet because I could go to this other world any time I wanted.  It was so real.  I met people there and got to know them, I got to know the animals and people's homes, the shops, everything."
     "That's amazing!  Can you still go there?"
     "No," she said sadly, "Only in my dreams, after I moved out on my own.  I miss them.  But, I can still write about it and share that world with other children, maybe some as unhappy as I was, and make a difference in their lives.  Give them a mental haven to retreat to when life gets too hard."





     Their love affair progresses and Sam finds himself drawn more and more to Isabelle's lifestyle.  Rather than power or money, Isabelle is interested in living a live of gentleness, caring, communication, protecting the environment and enjoying every moment of every day.  By contrast, his impersonal world of dealing with insincere interactions with people he does really know, or even want to know felt hollow and false.  The idea of building power through wealth seemed more and more distasteful.
    One night they go to a movie and then take a walk along the bay.  Then, they are mugged.  Sam, in an instinctual reaction to protect Isabelle, attempts to fend off the attacker and is stabbed.  Isabelle knows by the wound and the amount of blood loss that Sam will die before the medics can arrive, with all the power in her heart and soul and her great love for Sam screams out, NO!"
     When next Sam opens his eyes he is looking into the eyes of an unknown, burly man who has his hands on Sam's bare chest as Isabelle cradles his head.  No! Wait a minute.  Sam knows that face.  Yes!  It is the face of Forrest, one of the main characters of Isabelle's Other Realm series.
Sam and Isabelle learn that the other realm is a real place in a peril universe.  Isabelle's pain and misery as a child forged a link between herself and Forrest and a way into The Other Realm.  During her dreaming and daydreaming, her spirit had been in the other realm.
As Sam an Isabelle learn more about this other world with its beauty unmarred by the greed and power from their world, get to know the others of the settlement-their gentleness, genuinely, kindness, acceptance and love, they decide they would like to stay in the other realm forever.
     But that is not to be.  The morning after their arrival Forrest invites them to breakfast in his home, a simple log cabin with beautifully handcrafted furniture.  The food was simple, but wholesome: oatmeal, cream, coffee and fruit served on heavy pottery.  
     "To get straight to the point, your being here is a problem," Forrest began.  As they began to interrupt, he waved his meaty hand, saying, "Let me explain."
     "First, haven't you noticed that you understand every word I say and vice versa?  Doesn't that seem odd to you? I can tell by the looks on your faces, you never even thought about it.  Well, the reason is we are communicating telepathically."
    "Telepathically?"  Sam said.
     "Yes, telepathically.  There is a lot about this world you don't know and won't be able to understand right away.  Takes time.  But, we have a problem. You can't be here, at least not for long.  The space-time continuum won't allow it."
     "Won't allow it? Why not. This world is all I've dreamed of since a child, and now you say I can't stay! I want to know why," Isabelle was flushing.
     "First off, you, young woman will quickly waste away and die.  You have a double on this world, and there cannot be two of one on one world.  Second, you upset the space-time continuum, as I said, and that has the probability of destroying both our worlds."
     Taking in the stricken faces, Forrest lightened up.
     "There is a way to get you both back where you belong before it's too late.  Tonight's the full moon.  We have until the next full moon to put this all to rights.  But you," turning to look Sam full in the face, "must work like you've never worked before.  You have much to learn and we have a long, perilous journey ahead of us.  She won't be able to help much, after a week or so."