The Last Handful of Clover - Book 2: Gifts Both Light and Dark

2.82 The Temptation of Richard Pratt

June 15, 8:23 pm

When the darkness cleared and Justin was gone, Richard lay inside Pil, slowly realizing that he had limbs once again. He could feel his arms and his legs, but they felt... different. Strange, somehow. Larger. He took a deep breath and smelled real air, but tinged with acrid smoke. He spread his fingers wide, and felt them against something hard like wood, and then soft like cloth. After so many days of feeling nothing but hard concrete in the world, the softness of the cloth was silken and almost erotic.

He felt someone take his hand. It was a hand that seemed impossibly small to him in that moment, and also impossibly soft and fragile. He heard a voice say, "Pil, honey... It's Michelle! Can you hear me? Open your eyes. You're okay. Everything is okay."

That's Michelle's voice. Keith's friend, Michelle. What is she doing here? And where is here?

He opened his eyes and saw immediately that Michelle was kneeling before him. He recognized her, but it didn't seem to matter in that moment. All that mattered was that he was wearing this new body like a glove. No, that wasn't quite right. He was this new body, the same way he was his old body, even though the contours of it—the strength, the size—were all new. And sensations were flowing through his new body that he had almost forgotten.

The woman was on him now, weeping, kissing his lips, his hands, and burying her face against his chest. But even that did not fully register. He picked up his hands to look at them, and she pulled away. Her soft cries went silent as he looked at his hands. They were huge, brown and smooth, with fingers that were too thick to be useful. But he opened and closed them in wonder, marveling at the strength in them. So unlike the hands he once had, in some fading dream.

He felt Michelle's hands on his chin, turning his head. And then he was looking into her eyes. The look of joy on her face melted away as she realized she was not looking at her husband, after all.

"It's Richard," a voice said behind him. His muddled mind was quickly becoming clear. That boy's name is Howard. Howard Gunderson. The man who shot me, back when Justin had control of his body.

The way I'm controlling Pil now, he realized.

He watched numbly as Howard pulled Michelle away. And with a rush, the reality of what had just happened crashed in on him.

I did it! The Fourth Gift! I have a body again! I'm back in the world of the living!

He gathered his shirt and smelled it. There was a tang of sweat in the fabric, but one that was different from any he had ever known, even when he was alive. This was the sweat of a different body, the subtle difference of soap and sweat and male musk filling his nostrils. He felt an aching desire rising in him, the way it had every time he had smelled a man's sweat over the years. He looked up and saw the colors of the evening sky the way he remembered them. The air on his skin felt like silk, and his body responded with a longing that was so strong it made him tremble.

Howard was kneeling before him now, and Richard parted his lips, feeling the thick tongue moving inside his mouth, forming a word.

"Justin?" he asked.

"He's gone, Richard. I saw him leave Pil, and he smashed into the wall so hard that he... He disappeared."

Reset, Richard thought, with a flash of disappointment that quickly passed.

"Richard, I know you can't see him, but Billy is here. He's been begging you to leave Pil. He is right there in front of you."

Instinctively, Richard glanced at the spot of open air that Howard had indicated. But of course, he could see nothing there. He was in the world of the living again, and if Billy was there, why should he care? What use to him now were all the worries of the dead? He was no longer of that world. He was among the living now. He was reborn!