Amorous Goods: The Victrola � Part 2

An old record player and a ring changes their lives.

Based on a post by ShowTime8. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Prologue:

A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.

It was the end of the quarter for us, and I was tied up in meetings and spreadsheets for several days, making sure everything was as it should be. I went over all the expense reports, the balance sheets, and the spreadsheets provided by the various departments. I also spent a lot of time making sure our tax filings were correct, so I didn't have much time at work to do any research on the record player.

I also spent that time watching Terri closely. I noticed some things after a few days. Call it a trend, if you wish. For starters, she always wore that ring on the days she went to the Parker house. I also realized that we never had sex on those days, or most of the other days for that matter, but Never on the days she wore that ring.

I also noticed her temperament was quite different on the days she was at the house. Instead of the carefree, happy woman I married, she seemed distant and sometimes short-tempered. At first, I thought it was the stress of selling the place, but she was always under stress to sell more property, so that couldn't be it. What was so different about those days, I wondered.

I also noticed that she was spending more days at the Parker house than before, and she was coming home later and later. Sometimes, she wouldn't get home before midnight. She always dressed professionally and she never appeared disheveled when she came home. I never said anything because I didn't want to set her off. The few times I asked if everything was okay, she simply said, "just fine," waving me off before she turned and went the other way.

Eventually, the kids began to notice as well. Both of them came to me, asking if there was anything wrong between Terri and me.

"It's just that damn house she's been trying to sell," I told them.

"Well I hope she sells it soon. It's like she's two different people, and I want our old Mom back," April said.

"Yeah, me too," I said.

It was about the middle of October when things settled down at work. By then, I had found what I thought might be a solution to the volume issue. I found a couple websites where people said they used to put socks in the horns to quiet them a bit. According to one site, that's where the phrase, "put a sock in it" came from. Whatever works, I thought, but I didn't want to use anything that might scratch the ornate wooden horn, so I found a nice soft towel and decided to give that a try.

The next day, I put the towel in the horn of the old player and tested it with "Stars and Stripes Forever." Sure enough, it worked like a charm. I could even open the office door as it played and no one was bothered by it. I decided to try it with the unlabeled record during my lunch hour.

When the time came, I grabbed my lunch out of the refrigerator; a sandwich, a banana, a small bag of chips and a Pepsi; packed by myself, since Terri was too busy these days to really care about much except her work. I closed the door, put up my "out to lunch" sign and pulled the shades; a signal to everyone else to leave me alone; and fired up the player.

I had just taken a bite out of my sandwich when I heard the voice of a man with a slight accent come out of the horn.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Thornton," the man's voice said. I nearly spewed Pepsi out of my nose when that happened. I looked at the Victrola, shocked. "Yes, I'm talking to you, Mr. Thornton. Jack, isn't it? May I call you Jack?"

"Uh, yeah, Jack is fine," I said. "And who are you?"

"I'm Jonas Parker," the man said.

"But how can that be?" I asked. "You're dead. Aren't you?"

"It is true that my physical body no longer functions and is what you would call 'dead,' at least on the physical plane you perceive as reality, but the essence of who and what I really am continues on," the man said. "You might call it the soul."

"But how is that possible?" I asked. The man laughed before continuing.

"What was it the Bard once wrote?" Jonas asked. "Ah yes, 'There are more things in heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' You have no idea how correct he was."

"But how can you be speaking to me through this phonograph?" I asked.

"Because it was once mine," he said. "It was in my home for many years and like so many other things in my home, it has become what you might call enchanted. Or cursed, as the case may be. Although I am glad it is now in the hands of someone who appreciates history as you do. I know it will be well cared for."

"You still haven't answered my question," I said. "HOW is all this possible?"

"Very well," the man said. "I don't have time to explain more than 50 years of work, but I'll give you a brief synopsis. In 1921 an amateur archaeologist named Alfred Watkins discovered that ancient sites around the world, both man-made and natural, seemed to have a form of alignment. When looked at on a map, they seemed to be arranged in straight lines. These lines were later called 'ley lines,' and the points where those lines intersect were thought to be highly charged with pockets of supernatural energy that can be harnessed by some individuals.

"It turns out that my house happens to sit at the intersection of six of these lines. My grandfather was something of a spiritualist in his day, and felt there was something special about the location, so he built the house there, long before Watkins made his discovery. Naturally, I took up his work and traveled the world looking for clues; anything that might give me answers.

"Along the way, I collected a number of artifacts and trinkets that on their own, held some amount of power. But when brought together at that location, their power grew in ways you cannot imagine. I learned to harness the power of those objects for my own benefit. You see, the so-called 'scientific community' wasn't interested in hearing about what men like Watkins had to say. They dismissed it as just so much hokum."

"So I endeavored to prove them all wrong. I spent over a half century collecting and researching. I sold many of the items I collected, but there were others I kept for myself. You wouldn't believe the mountain of information I gleaned. Eventually, I was able to understand nearly all of it, but there was one step I had to take before I could realize my ultimate goal," he said.

"What was that?" I asked.

"I had to let my physical body die," he said. "So I did. And voila, here I am."

"You're mad," I said. He chuckled.

"Perhaps," he said. "I've been called that and much worse, by experts. But consider this. Of the two of us, which one is holding a conversation with a machine?"

"I see your point," I said.

"Each of us has a purpose, Jack," he said. "Mine is to travel the space-time continuum and enjoy whatever is out there. Yours is to raise your two children to be responsible adults. And your wife is fulfilling her purpose even now as we speak."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my anger rising.

"Oh come on, Jack, surely you know what I'm talking about," he said.

"You mean selling your house?" He laughed out loud.

"Selling it?" he asked. "Heavens no. She's not selling it. She preparing it."

"For what?" I asked. "Quit talking in riddles, dammit!"

"For our return," he said. "My wife was taken from me years ago by a cruel disease. In short, I was robbed of a lifetime of love and happiness. I intend to get that back."

"How do you plan to do that?" I asked. "And what role does my wife play in your scheme?"

"I'm sure you noticed the ring she was given," he said. "The pattern came from an ancient tribe of people who believed the dead could replace the souls of the living. The pattern on that ring makes it possible. Your wife's body will soon host my dear departed wife's soul for good. Haven't you noticed the changes in your wife recently?"

"I have," I said.

"That's because the human mind was not made to house two people," he said. "My wife's soul is slowly taking your wife's body and mind over. In the meantime, she's learning to adapt and use what your wife's body has to offer. And I must say, it's quite exhilarating. Your wife sure knows how to be a wild woman in bed, the way my Annabelle once was."

"And what happens to my wife's soul?" I asked.

"Eventually, it will replace Annabelle's in the great beyond," he said. "Before long, there'll be no need for the ring. When Annabelle gets strong enough, she'll push your Terri out completely."

"You'll never get away with this," I said. He laughed.

"Jack, Jack," he said condescendingly. "Please don't insult my intelligence. Look at the big picture here, will you? There's no way you can stop what has already started. And who would believe you? You'd be sent to a mental institution, and who would be left to care for your children. Hmm? Why not simply accept the inevitable and get on with your life? There are other women out there, you know. Many of them would love to be with someone like you."

"This can't be real," I said quietly.

"Oh, but it is real, Jack," he said. "It's as real as it gets. Look, I'd love to chat some more, but the record finished playing long ago and I really need to get back to what I was doing. I know this is a lot for you to embrace at one time. Terri has left a message for you on one of the records you bought this morning. The label is clearly marked. In the meantime, listen to this;�

His voice went away and was replaced by moaning and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. I could hear a woman's voice in the background and knew it was Terri.

"Oh God, yes," she moaned. "Fuck my pussy, Master. Keep fucking me. Cum inside my slutty cunt." I heard a man groan out loud and then there were no more sounds. I looked and saw the needle was in the final groove next to the label. How long had it been there, I wondered. Shocked, I lifted the needle and stopped the player.

I pulled the wax record off the turntable and replaced it in its paper sleeve before putting it away. I looked through the other albums carefully and found one with an old RCA label marked, "To Jack From Terri." Strange, I thought. That wasn't there this morning. How could this possibly be? I thought about playing that record, but had another idea. I had a turntable at home that could play 78 RPM albums, so I decided I would take the record home and listen to it there, and if necessary, confront my wife.

I looked at the time and realized my lunch break was nearly over. Could I really have been conversing with a dead man through an old phonograph that long? Stunned and shocked, I tossed the rest of my lunch away and went back to my desk. I called Terri's office, hoping to speak to her.

"Is Terri Thornton available?" I asked the receptionist.

"I'm sorry, Jack, but she's been out all day," the receptionist said. "I don't expect her back until sometime tomorrow. Can I leave a message?"

"No, that's alright," I said. "I'll talk to her later." I ended the call, then pulled out the card and called Vikki.

"Hello, Jack, I was expecting your call," she said. "Would you like to come over so we can talk?"

"Yes," I said. "How did you know I'd be calling?"

"Call it a woman's intuition," she said. "I suggest the sooner you get here the better."

"Okay, I'm coming right over," I said, ending the call. I went to Alan's office. He looked at me and invited me inside. I walked in and closed the door behind me.

"What's the matter, Jack?" he asked. "You don't look too well. Are you feeling alright?"

"I need to take some time off," I said. "Family emergency."

"Well, you've got comp time coming, and we don't have anything pressing, so go ahead. Take a few days and get it under control," he said. "If there's anything I can do, please let me know."

"Thanks, Alan," I said. "I appreciate that." With that, I went back to my office, put the record from Terri in my briefcase and headed out. I decided to drive by the old Parker place to see if she was there. Sure enough, she was. I could see her car along with another parked in front of the house. I couldn't get in because the iron gate at the driveway was closed. I looked but didn't see any signs indicating the place was for sale. Odd, I thought.

From there, I drove straight to Vikki's shop. I was desperate for answers and I hoped she could give me some. When I got there, I went inside and saw her behind the counter. She looked up as I walked inside.

"Good afternoon, Jack," she said. "I assume you want some answers."

"You assume right," I said. She nodded her head, went to the door and locked it, putting up a sign that red, "Closed." She turned back and started walking to the back of the shop, I assumed, where her office was located. She stopped and looked back at me.

"Perhaps you should come with me," she said. I followed her into a small, crowded office with a desk and three chairs. One of the chairs sat in a corner and was covered with an afghan. She invited me to sit in the other chair as she took her place behind her desk.

"I take it you listened to the record with the blank label," she said. I nodded my head.

"You might say that," I said. "More to the point, I had a conversation with the man who recorded that disk. What can you tell me about your uncle?"

"Well, for starters, he was actually my great-uncle; my grandfather's oldest brother," she said. "He held two degrees. One in archaeology and another in history. He got married and taught for a while, but after his wife died of meningitis, he left the college and began exploring the world, collecting artifacts from all over. About 35 years ago, he finally settled back into the old house and opened this place. He never remarried and always talked about how he and his beloved wife would one day be reunited."

"Did he say how that might happen?" I asked. She shook her head.

"No, but he did talk a lot about otherworldly things," she said. "Supernatural things."

"Was he involved with the occult?" I asked. She shrugged her shoulders.

"I can tell you that he was accused of that, more than once, and I can tell you he dabbled in things I never really cared to mess with," she said. I nodded my head in understanding. "Would you like to see a picture of his wife?" she asked.

"Sure," I said. She turned to her computer and pulled up a digitized black and white photograph of a stunningly beautiful woman in her mid-twenties. I looked at the photo in shock. She looked like the spitting image of my Terri. Vikki saw the expression on my face. I pulled out my cell phone and showed her a recent picture of Terri. She looked at it, shocked.

"What's your wife's maiden name?" she asked.

"Hanson," I said. Vikki opened another file on her computer.

"Uncle Jonas was really into genealogy," she said. "He originally had everything on paper, but put it into a computer a few years before he died." She pointed at one entry in a box. "This was his wife; Annabelle. Her maiden name was Simpson and according to this, she had a sister, Freida. We know Annabelle didn't have any children and Uncle Jonas never remarried. Let's follow Freida's line and see what we come up with."

We both examined the screen, following the lines down through the generations. Fortunately, there wasn't much to go through, but Vikki found it and pointed to a box on the screen. I looked and saw it: Terri Ann Hanson. A box next to it was connected with a line and had my name inside. Below that were the names of our children.

"There's your answer," she said. "He was waiting for someone who resembled Annabelle."

"Do you have a picture of your brother on here?" I asked.

"Sure," she said, going back to the pictures folder. She pulled one up and showed it to me.

"How much does he resemble your uncle?" I asked.

"Quite a bit," she said. "His name is Donald. They were quite close."

"Is it possible that your uncle had him give her that ring?" I asked.

"Anything's possible, I guess," she said.

"Did your uncle keep track of the things he picked up over the years?" I asked her.

"Yes," she said. "Mostly for keeping inventory. It's all here in the database. He spent years putting it together."

"Can you search for 'ring' and 'soul' in that database?" I asked.

"Yes I can," she said, pulling up what looked like a custom program built for a database. She entered the search terms and hit enter. There were a few items displayed and most were marked as "sold." The top item, however, caught my eye. It was the exact ring I saw on Terri's hand. Vikki clicked on the item description and we red the entry Jonas had input.

"According to this, he discovered the ring at a dig in central Africa," Vikki said. "Local legend had it that an ancient tribe used a ring like this to commune with the dead. The wearer could supposedly channel the spirit of someone who passed away and even take on some of that person's personality traits. But there's a warning. If worn long enough, the departed spirit could displace the spirit of the person wearing the ring."

"Oh my God," I said. "Did Jonas say anything else? Like, how to reverse the process?"

"He has an entry here that gives a chant," she said. "According to Jonas, it has to be spoken by two females, and one of them has to be related to the person wearing the ring." Terri's mother lived in Florida, and was too far to get here in time. But there was one other person. It was a risk, but if we were ever to get Terri back, it had to be done.

"Would you be willing to help me break that spell?" I asked.

"Yes, I would," she said. "But we need two females. Where are you going to get the other?"

"I'll have to get her out of school," I said. "Print out two copies of that chant if you would please. I have to call the school."

"Okay," she said. As she did that, I called April's school and told them there was a family emergency and I needed to pull her out. They wanted to know the nature of the emergency, and I simply told them it had to do with her mother. The vice principal I spoke to reluctantly agreed and I said I would there shortly. By the time I ended the call, Vikki was finished.

"I assume you can get into the gate and the door at your uncle's house?" I asked her.

"Of course," she said.

"Alright," I told her. "If you have that printed out, let's go. I'll bring you back later." We headed out and got to the school, where April was waiting outside. She got in the car and looked at Vikki, confused.

"What's going on, Dad?" she asked. "Is Mom okay? Who is this woman?"

"No, she's not, dear," I said. "By the way, this is Vikki. Vikki, meet April, my daughter. Could you please give her the chant?" Vikki handed her a sheet of paper with the strange chant printed on it in large letters. April looked at it, her brows furrowed.

"What is this, Dad? It's gibberish," she said.

"We're going to the old Parker house," I told her. "When we get there, you and Vikki will need to recite that together. Can you do that?"

"I guess so," she said. "But I'm confused. What is this and what does it have to do with Mom?"

"Remember you told me you wanted your old mother back?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said.

"This is the only way that'll ever happen," I told her. "I really can't explain too much more than that. I'm not even sure I believe it all myself."

"Huh?" April asked, nearly hysterical. Vikki turned in her seat.

"My great-uncle Jonas was into a lot of strange things," she told April. "He's to blame for what's going on with your mother."

"But he's dead," April said.

"Only his body is dead," Vikki told her. "I'll explain later. Just familiarize yourself with that chant. Follow my lead. When I tell you, we say it together. Understand? Your father is counting on you to do this." April calmed down, looked at my reflection in the mirror, then nodded her head.

"Okay," she said quietly. I saw her reading the paper intently as I drove. We finally made it to the Parker house and Vikki hit a series of numbers on the pad in front of the gate. When she did so, the gate opened and I drove inside, stopping next to Terri's car. Vikki turned to April.

"Remember, follow my lead," she said. "There may be things happening here that might shock you. Just look past it. Whatever you might see, remember, it's not really your mother. Understand?"

"I guess," she said. We got out of the car and walked to the front door. Vikki already had her keys out and opened it. We stepped inside and looked around, but didn't see anyone. We listened and heard a woman moaning in orgasm. I recognized the voice; it was Terri.

"What's going on here?" April asked.

"You don't want to know, dear," I told her. Vikki put her finger to her mouth telling us to be quiet. We followed the voices to a set of stairs leading into a basement, and went downstairs. We entered a large, dimly-lit chamber and saw two figures; Terri and Donald. Both had just thrown on a robe and were securing the ties when we walked in. I noticed he wore a ring very much like Terri's. They looked at us, surprised to see us there.

"What are you doing here, man-child?" Terri asked, an ugly sneer on her face. Her eyes had changed and were completely black. "And who is the little girl?"

"I could ask you the same, Terri," I said. "What are you doing here? You certainly aren't selling any real estate, that's for certain. And this girl is our daughter. Don't you remember your own daughter?" Terri laughed.

"Terri's not here right now, man-child," the woman said. "Call me Annabelle. And I don't have any children. Not yet, anyway. I'm just getting used to this body. It's been a long time since I felt a hard cock inside me." The man laughed as she said that. He looked at me and I noticed his eyes were also completely black.

"It's just as I told you earlier, Jack, my boy," he said in Jonas' voice.

"You don't belong on this plane of existence anymore, Uncle Jonas," Vikki said. "It's time for you and Aunt Annabelle to go back where you really belong." She looked at April and nodded her head. They both began reading the chant in unison.

"No," Jonas/Donald exclaimed. "This can't be happening. You can't do this!" As the two women chanted, the atmosphere in the room changed and became more charged. I looked and saw what appeared to be two vortexes, each one swirling over Donald and Terri. Their eyes flashed for a moment, and the swirling became more pronounced.

I thought I saw figures in the vortexes; strange, hooded things with fire for eyes. I looked at Vikki and April and saw what looked like an electrified aura surrounding them. Their eyes were wide and shone like fire. They held the papers at their sides and were now chanting as one, as if on autopilot.

Terri and Donald screamed and tried to break free of the vortexes, which had by now completely covered their bodies. It continued to build, the charge in the room getting worse and worse. Suddenly, it all vanished and everything became normal. The girls stopped chanting and we looked at Donald and April.

Their eyes had returned to normal and they stood there for a moment, expressionless. Then they fell to the floor, not moving. April and I ran to Terri while Vikki went to Donald.

"Get that ring off of him," I told Vikki as I pulled the ring off Terri's right hand. There was a fireplace at one end of the room and we tossed the rings in the fire. I took Terri's face in my hands and tried to get her attention as April cried for her mother. Vikki tried to get Donald's attention at the same time. We were both unsuccessful. Terri looked at the two of us kneeling by her, but there was no recognition or emotion in her face. It was completely blank. Donald was in the same condition.

Vikki stood up and pulled her phone to call 911. We tried to make the two of them as comfortable as we could and spoke to them, trying to make them recognize us, but to no avail. Soon, the paramedics arrived and checked the two of them out before putting them on gurneys.

"We'll be taking them to County General," one of the medics said. We got in my car and followed the ambulance to the hospital. Then we waited. And waited. And waited some more. Finally, a couple of doctors came out to see us. One of them spoke to Vikki while the other spoke to April and me.

"Mr. Thornton," the doctor said. "I don't quite know what to tell you. Physically, there's not a thing wrong with your wife. All of her blood work and other tests came back just fine. All of her levels appear to be exactly where they should be and we didn't find any evidence of drugs. I am concerned, however, with the results of her EEG. It's almost as if the lights are on, but no one is home."

"So, what do we do?" I asked.

"I'm going to recommend she stay here for a few days," he said. "I'd like to have her go through more extensive tests under the supervision of our neurology department. Maybe we can find out what's going on there." I nodded my head.

"Okay," I said. After the doctor left, Vikki and I compared notes and learned the doctor said the same thing about Donald. We stayed until they got the two of them into a room. April and I spoke to Terri, but she looked at us as though we were completely alien to her and she didn't say a word. Finally, we said our goodbyes, kissing her on the cheek. Her face showed no emotion whatsoever as we did so.

We drove back to Vikki's shop in silence, all of us shocked by the events of the last few hours. I promised to stay in touch when she got out of the car. She promised to look through her uncle's notes to see if she could find anything that might help. When she got out, April jumped in the front seat.

"What now, Dad?" she asked. I shook my head.

"I don't know, dear," I said. "We do everything we can to support your mother, help her get back to normal, I guess."

"Are you going to divorce her?" she asked sadly. "You know what they were doing down there, don't you?"

"I know," I said. "Somehow, I don't think your mother had any control over that. Don't ask me to explain. I'm not sure I understand it all myself."

"What if she did?" April asked.

"Then we deal with that when the time comes," I said. We rode the rest of the way home in silence, but my mind was going into overdrive. April had a good point. If Terri did knowingly cheat on me, there would be no question that divorce was the only option. But something told me to hold that thought.

Robert was already home when we got there. He came up to us, worried.

"What's going on, Dad?" he asked. "Where were you guys?"

"We were at the hospital," I said.

"Hospital?" he asked. "Is it Mom? It is, isn't it? What happened?"

"Mom's not herself right now," April said. "We can't explain it and neither can the doctors. They're going to keep her for a bit and run some tests."

"Is she okay?" Robert asked.

"Physically, yes," I said.

"Oh my God," Robert said. "Is Mom a psycho or something?" April looked at him, angry, and started to slap his face, but I grabbed her hand before she could.

"No, your mother's not psycho," I said. "And I never want to hear you say that again," I added calmly but firmly. "She has a problem, but they're going to find out what it is. In the meantime, we will support her as we always have. Got it?"

"I got it, Dad," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

"I know you didn't, son," I told him. I opened my arms and held the two of them. We shared some tears for a bit before I let them go.

"I'm going to warm up some dinner," April said. I nodded my head.

"Do that," I said. "You guys go ahead and eat, then do your homework. I have some things to do."

"Are you going to be okay, Dad?" she asked.

"I think so," I said. "This is all so overwhelming right now." I went into my home office and shut the door. I set my briefcase down and opened it. I pulled the record that held Terri's message on my turntable, set it to 78 RPM, then plugged in my headphones. I hoped this would actually work. I grabbed a beer out of my small refrigerator and sat down to listen to the record.

"Jack, it's me, Terri," I heard her say in the headphones. "I don't know where I am, but I wanted to get this done so you might understand what's going on. I know this is going to sound strange, but I was given this ring by Donald Parker. He said it was a gift for all my work in getting the house ready for sale. Ever since he gave me that ring, though, strange things began to happen.

"I can't quite explain it, but it's as if there's two people in my head, me and someone else. Someone from a long time ago. Her name is Annabelle, and she was Jonas Parker's wife. She's been using my body and I have no control over what she does with it. She speaks through me and does things and I can't do anything to stop her. I tried, but it feels like I've been shoved aside and made to stay in a fog. I've seen her do things with Parker, sexual things. I tried to make her stop. Honestly, I did. But I couldn't. The night of your birthday, Annabelle took control and she's the one who did all those things to you. She originally promised to let me have you that night, but she reneged on her promise. Then she made me watch and taunted me the whole time.

"I tried to tell you, but she wouldn't let me. She said I was a lousy fuck and you'd be better off with a woman who at least knew how to give a good blowjob. I cried as I watched her suck your cock. I saw the look on your face and it hurt knowing that it wasn't really me making you feel so good. I felt so inadequate as a wife.

"I know this probably sounds like bullshit to you. If you told me something like this, I'd kick your ass to the curb so fast it isn't even funny. But you have to believe me. I've never cheated on you. Ever. You're the only man I've ever had and the only man I ever want to have. I fought them as hard as I could, but I was powerless to stop them. I feel so dirty and ashamed. I wouldn't blame you if you divorced me.

"I just hope that one day, you can forgive me for being weak. Please know that I love you with all my heart, and I always will. Tell the kids I love them and give them a big hug and kiss for me. Annabelle says I'll be gone for good soon and this is the last time I'll ever be able to get anything to you.

"Please, sweetheart, find a woman you can love and be with her. Forget about me. I'm gone now and I don't think I'll ever be able to get back. Just remember that you made me the happiest woman on earth and If I have to, I'll wait here forever for you.

"I love you, Jack," she said, crying. "Goodbye, sweetheart." The recording ended and I sat there with tears rolling down my face. She was right about one thing. If she had told me this before tonight, I don't think I would've believed her. But there had been so many strange things happen lately that I couldn't help but give her the benefit of the doubt.

So now, I wondered, what do I do? My wife's body was in the hospital, while her spirit, or soul, or whatever you want to call it, is "out there," somewhere. For a moment, I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone and I halfway expected to see Rod Serling step out and say something profound.

I wondered what was on the other side of the record, and took a quick look. The label was blank, but there were grooves as though something had been recorded. I tried to play that side of the record, but heard nothing. I took the record of the turntable and put it back in its sleeve.

A thousand thoughts went through my mind as I sat there considering Terri's message. I realized I needed to speak to someone about this, and I knew just the right person. I recorded Terri's audio to a thumb drive, saving it in MP3 format. I pulled out my phone and made a call.

"Hello," I heard a man's voice say at the other end.

"Mike, you busy right now?" I asked. Mike Dunkirk was an old friend from college. He was actually more than that; he was once my college counselor and as my mentor, he was probably the only person on earth I could speak to about this.

"Well, just finishing up some meat loaf, but otherwise, no," he said. "You got a problem you need help with?"

"Yeah," I said. "It's pretty strange actually. I'd like to bend your ear for a bit if that's okay and get your take on it."

"Well, if you're calling me, it must be a humdinger of a problem," he said. "Sure, come on over. I'll have a beer waiting for you."

"Thanks, Mike, I appreciate that," I said. We ended the call and I went into the front room where the kids were doing their homework.

"Will you kids be okay if I step out for a bit?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure Dad," April said. "We're not exactly little kids anymore, you know."

"Don't remind me," I said. "Okay, keep the door locked and don't let anyone inside. Call me if you need to. I may be gone for a couple hours or so."

"Okay, Dad," Robert said. I headed out and drove to Mike's place, a small two-bedroom condo not too far from my house. He by himself these days, since his wife died a year or so ago. When I got there, he handed me a beer and we sat in his front room.

"So, what's on your mind, Jack?" he asked.

"Mike, I'm about to tell you a story that you're gonna find very hard to believe," I said. "Hell, I went through it and I'm not sure I believe it myself." I told him the story; all of it, He listened intently, not interrupting me. When I finished, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Damn," he said. "If anyone else had told me this, I'd have them packed off to the loony bin. You have a recording of her message?"

"I do, right here," I said, pulling out the thumb drive. He walked to the table where his laptop sat and inserted the drive. We listened to it together, then he pulled the drive out and handed it to me.

"Neither you nor Terri are prone to exaggerate things," he said. "And I know she would never cheat on you. It's just not in her to do that. So now, you're probably wondering what you should do."

"I am," I told him. "Dammit, I don't want a divorce, but I can't live with this."

"Let me ask you something," he said. "Suppose Terri was walking home one night and she was grabbed by someone and raped at gunpoint. Would you divorce her over that?"

"Of course not," I said. "That wouldn't be right. It was done against her will."

"Exactly," he said. "And so was this. There's really no difference. You heard what she said, the anguish in her voice. That's not something she could just make up."

"Yeah, but it's just so;�

"Strange?" Mike asked, finishing my statement.

"Yeah," I said.

"Well, if Jonas Parker is involved, strange is the order of the day," he said.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"I've stopped by his shop a few times just to look around, maybe buy something. I'd spoken to the old man while I was there. He was something else, to be sure," Mike said. "I got curious about the guy and did some research. Someone wrote a book about him and his family. From what I red, the old man never really got over the loss of his wife. Spent many years searching for answers. Some thought he was looking for a way to bring her back from the dead. Maybe he finally succeeded."

"Wow," I said.

"So, are you dead set on getting a divorce?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said. "If it turns out she deliberately did this, then yes."

"Are you in a hurry to do this?" he asked.

"No, I guess there's no need to rush into it, not with her in the condition she's in," I said. "What do you suggest?"

"I think you should let the medicos do their thing," he said. "Let them observe her, run their tests. If she's faking, they'll know pretty quick. And you'll have your answer."

"I think you're right," I said. Inside, I knew he was right. In all the years I had known Terri, she never once seemed the type to come on to other men. Even when we were in college, she wasn't the flirty type who jumped from man to man. None of this was like her at all. And with her in the hospital, I knew she wouldn't be going anywhere anyway.

"Look, why don't you go home, give the kids a hug and get some sleep," Mike said. "Take it one step at a time. You'll have your answers soon enough. And of course, if you need to bend my ear, I'll always be here for ya."

"Thanks, Mike, I appreciate that a bunch," I said.

"Anytime, old friend," he said. "You know, I just had a thought. Why don't you bring that record with her message by tomorrow, along with another recording of her, maybe a voicemail or something. I have a friend who works at the police lab. Maybe he can verify if that voice is really hers."

"That's a good point," I said. "I'd be curious to know how it got onto that record. I'll bring it by in the morning."

"Sounds good, Jack," he said. "I'll see you then." We said our goodbyes and I went home. The kids had finished their homework and were playing games on the television. I grabbed some leftovers and a coke and watched as they played their game. Even with the kids there, the place seemed so empty without Terri in it.

Eventually, we all tired and headed to bed. I held Terri's pillow and tried to sleep, but it wasn't easy. When I finally did fall asleep, I dreamt of Terri, searching her way home through a dark fog. I tried calling out to her, but was unable to speak. I woke up the next morning, drenched in sweat.

I got up, showered, shaved and dressed, then went downstairs. The kids were already eating breakfast and getting ready to leave for school. I made sure they had their lunches then saw them out the door and watched as they climbed on the bus.

I grabbed the record with Terri's message and copied a voicemail she left me from my phone to a thumb drive and headed to Mike's. He met me at the door when I got there.

"Please be careful with this," I said. "It's an old wax record, and they can break very easily."

"No problem," he said. "How did you sleep, by the way?"

"Not that good," I told him.

"Remember what I said. Take it one day at a time," he said. "You going to the hospital to see her?"

"Yeah," I said. "Maybe they'll have some news."

"Alright," he said. "Keep me in the loop. I'll let you know what my friend says."

"Thanks again, Mike," I said. I left and went to the hospital to check on Terri. When I got there, I went to the nurse's station to get an update on her condition. They told me that she had soiled herself and had to have a diaper put on her. They also told me that she had to be fed like a baby. Apparently, she had forgotten how to eat or even use the toilet. The doctor saw me and came over to me.

"Mr. Thornton, I've got your wife scheduled for an MRI later today," he said. "I've also reached out to a colleague of mine who happens to be a top neurologist at Johns Hopkins. He'll be coming to look over the test results."

"Is she going to be okay?" I asked.

"Physically, she's in great shape," he said. "But it's as though there's no memory of anything."

"So she has amnesia?" I asked.

"This appears to go beyond simple amnesia," he said. "She seems to have forgotten everything. How to eat, how to use the restroom, everything. She doesn't respond to visual or verbal stimuli."

"Maybe I should try to talk to her," I said.

"That wouldn't hurt," he said. "Maybe you can trigger a reaction. It might also help if you brought your children in later. Maybe she'll respond to them." I nodded my head.

"I'll do that," I said.

"I'll be in touch," he said before walking off. I went into Terri's room and looked at her. She seemed okay, physically, but there was no recognition in her face when I walked in.

"Terri, it's me, Jack," I said, sitting down next to her. She looked at me with her big brown eyes, but didn't respond. "Can you hear me? Can you understand what I'm saying? Nod your head if you do." There was still no reaction. I picked up her dainty hand and brought it to my lips, kissing her fingers as I sometimes did after we had made love. Still no reaction.

"Talk to me, Terri," I said. "The kids and I miss you so bad. Do you remember the children? Robert and April? Do you remember what April did yesterday?" I looked at her face for any sign of, well, anything. But there was nothing. I may as well have been talking to the wall.

I had a brainstorm and decided to change tack. I looked at Terri before speaking.

"Why did you do it, Terri?" I asked calmly. "Why did you lie to me about that ring? Why did you have to fuck that asshole? Surely you knew that I wouldn't tolerate that. I need answers, Terri. If I don't get any, I'll have no choice but to file for a divorce. And I'll be asking for custody of the kids. Talk to me, Terri. Why?"

There was absolutely no reaction from her. I had hardly ever used profanity in her presence and I had hoped it along with the threat of divorce would snap her out of whatever was going on in her head, but it didn't. Either she was the best actress on the planet or she really wasn't there. I sat with her for a while longer, then had another idea. I got up and kissed her on the forehead.

"I'll be back," I told her. "I'll bring the kids by later. We'll talk then, okay?" She looked up at me, but said nothing and her face remained passive. I went out of her room and asked about visiting hours.

"You can visit pretty much any time before 8 pm," the nurse said. I thanked her and headed out. My first stop was Vikki's shop. I went inside and found her behind the counter, helping another customer. When she finished, she came over to me.

"How's your wife?" she asked. I shook my head.

"Not good," I said. "It's like she's not even there. What about Donald?"

"The same," she said, tears falling down her cheek. "What are you going to do?"

"I have an idea, but I don't know if anything will come of it," I said. "Can you keep looking through your uncle's notes to see what you can find?"

"I have been, but I'll keep looking," she said. "If I find anything, I'll let you know."

"Thanks," I told her before leaving. From there, I drove to my office. Everyone asked about Terri and expressed their condolences. I thanked them and got to my office, where I met Alan.

"How's Terri?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Not good," I said. "Physically, she's okay, but it's like she's not there. They're going to do an MRI today and they have top specialists coming in to take a look."

"We just ordered some flowers for her," he said. "You just take it easy. If you need any more time off, take it. Just let me know."

"Thanks, Alan," I said. He went about his business and I went into my office. I closed the door and pulled the blinds, then grabbed the record with the blank label. After winding up the old Victrola, I placed the record on the turntable, turned it on and listened, hoping to hear Jonas. This time, however, I had the voice recorder on my phone ready to go, and set it on the table, close to the Victrola's external horn. After the player started, I heard his voice.

"Jack," he said through the horn. His voice sounded a bit different, almost as if he was going through something painful. "You surprised me, old boy. I never knew you had it in you. And you managed to recruit my own niece. Quite clever of you."

"Where's Terri?" I asked.

"In the hospital, I imagine," he said. "Along with my nephew."

"Bullshit, Jonas," I said. "Her body's there, but she's not. Neither is Donald. Where are they?" He laughed before responding.

"You figured that out, did you?" he asked. "Well, if you must know, Donald is here, with me. Or rather, his spirit is here. Terri's spirit is in what you might call purgatory, where she'll wander for all eternity, long after her physical body has turned to dust."

"There's got to be a way for her to get back, Jonas," I said.

"I'm sure there is, but even if I knew and was inclined to help you, I can't," he said.

"Why is that, Jonas?" I asked.

"Because, I'm being punished for what I did," he said. "As is Donald. We are someplace you never want to be."

"Where is that, Jonas?" I asked.

"You might know it as Hell," Jonas said.

"And Donald is there with you?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, his voice cracking from whatever strain he was under. "We're both being punished for what we did. As is my lovely Annabelle. And we'll be here for all time. I'm told Donald's body won't last much longer. Maybe a year or two at most from your perspective. Time doesn't have much meaning here."

"Why, Jonas?" I asked. "Why did you do it, and why Terri?"

"I only wanted to be reunited with my lovely bride," he said. "Terri was the best candidate. She was a descendant of Annabelle's sister and she resembled her enough for my purpose. Donald and I planned it all out long before my body died."

"And Terri knew nothing of this?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said. "She was duped from the beginning. Donald gave her that ring in the store when Vikki was out. He told her it was a token of the family's gratitude. She had no idea what we were doing until it was too late for her. By the time you and Vikki showed up, her spirit had already been displaced."

"And she never willingly gave herself to you or Donald?" I asked.

"No, never," he said. "That was Annabelle's doing. She was always a vivacious and passionate creature."

"There's got to be a way to get Terri back into her body," I said. "Think, man. Tell me."

"I; I can't," he said, seemingly out of breath. "I'm sorry, Jack, old boy. I can't think of anything except my pain; Please, make it stop;� His voice erupted into a howl of anguish and then died out. All I heard was the scratching noise of the needle in the record's groove. I realized I would hear nothing more and stopped the player. I ended the recording and listened to some of it, just to verify that I was able to capture his voice.

I pulled the record off the player and put it back into its protective sleeve. I sat there for a bit, thinking about what to do next. Then I had an idea. I packed up the Victrola along with a couple of records and left the office. I drove back to Vikki's shop and went inside.

Vikki's eyes grew wide when I played the conversation I had with her uncle. She listened to it twice, apparently to make sure it really was him. There were tears in her eyes when she was finished.

"That's his voice," she said. "There's no doubt about it. It's like hearing him die all over again. And my poor brother. Jonas used him and now it's going to cost him his life as well." I held her as she sobbed on my shirt.

"I'm sorry, Vikki," I said. "I had no idea this would happen."

"Neither did I," she said. "My brother went along with Jonas' evil plan and he's paying the price. But your wife was completely innocent. What are you going to do?"

"I have an idea," I said. "I don't know if it'll work, but at this point, I'm ready to try just about anything. Maybe I can help Vikki find her way back. And I think that old Victrola may be the key." She nodded her head.

"Let me know how it goes, okay?" she asked.

"I will," I said. "And I'm truly sorry for your loss."

"Thanks," she said. "Donald and I weren't all that close, but he was still my brother." We promised to stay in touch and I left the shop, heading for home. I put the Victrola in my office and prepared dinner for the kids, since I knew they would be home soon. I wasn't much of a cook, but I had helped Terri a few times and figured I would do what I could. At least they wouldn't starve.

When they got home, we ate the hamburger helper I made; without complaint, I might add; then went to see Terri. The kids were shocked when she didn't respond to them. They tried telling her about their day at school, but she just looked at them with no response and no indication that she even knew who they were.

I saw her doctor as we left, and he told me they had conducted the brain scan on her and the specialist would be there in a day or two to go over the results.

"Is there any chance she could be faking any of this?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"I've dealt with amnesia before, but I've never seen anything quite like this," he said. "I honestly don't think so. Just keep visiting her and talking to her. Maybe that will help."

"What if I bring some things from the house? Would that maybe help her out?" I asked.

"It certainly can't hurt," he said. That's what we did for the next couple of days. I visited her whenever I could, talking to her about things we had done, places we had seen, but that didn't strike a chord with her at all. Neither did the pictures and video I showed her of the four of us on vacation.

I got a call from Mike two days after I gave him the record with Terri's message.

"You got some time?" he asked.

"Sure," I said. "What's up?"

"My friend finished analyzing that record and he'd like for the three of us to meet over lunch," he said. "Are you available?"

"Sure," I said. "Where?"

"Well, there's that little diner over on Third Street you like," he said. "How about there?"

"That sounds good," I said. "They make the juiciest burgers."

"It's on, then," he said. "See you at 12:00." We ended the call and I was there right at 12:00. I saw Mike when I walked in. He waved at me, and I saw another man at the table. I headed over to them, and gave my order to the waitress.

"Jack, this is my friend, Al Nelson. He works for the police in their forensics lab," Mike said. I shook Al's hand and he handed me the record and the USB drive.

"Good to meet you, Al," I said. "What did you find?"

"Good to meet you, too, Jack," he said. "Well, I performed a voice print analysis of the woman on the record and it matches up perfectly to the voicemail from your wife. I also took a look at the record and I can tell you it appears to be the genuine article."

"What are you saying?" I asked him.

"Well, if I had to testify in court, I'd have to say it appears that recording was cut over 100 years ago," he said. "And it was cut by the same person who left that voicemail."

"How is that possible?" I asked.

"My tests can't make that determination," he said. "I suppose it's remotely possible that someone made that record with technology from the early 20th century, but I don't know anyone with access to that kind of equipment, and the grooves on the record are consistent with what was used to cut records back in those days. I honestly don't have an answer for that."

We spent the next hour eating and talking about the tests he performed. Both Mike and I were shocked at what he had found. Truth be told, I was nowhere near as shocked as Mike; not after what I had experienced myself. I kept quiet about that, though.

After we ate, I got a call from Terri's doctor asking if I had time to swing by his office. I told him I would be right there, so I said my goodbyes, thanked Al for his efforts and headed over. Dr. Jacobs' office was in a building adjacent to the hospital, so I went there and introduced myself to the receptionist, who ushered me into his office.

"Mr. Thornton," he said, "this is Dr. Williams, from Johns Hopkins. He's probably the best in the business and I asked him to take a look at your wife's test results." I shook the older man's hand and Dr. Jacobs showed me a short video. I didn't know what it was I was looking at, so he explained it to me.

"This is the typical brain activity in a normal, healthy, functioning human being," he said. I took in the splotches of color and was amazed at what I saw. All that goes on in the human brain, I asked myself. He stopped that video and showed me another. This one had about a tenth of the activity of the previous video.

"This is your wife's brain activity," he said. "You can see the significant difference."

"Yes," I said. "What's going on?"

"That's what we'd like to find out, Mr. Thornton," Dr. Williams said. "It's almost as if the part of the brain associated with memory and personality has been short circuited somehow. The good news, however, is that there's no tumor or growth that seems to be causing this."

"So, what are you recommending?" I asked.

"We'd like to do exploratory surgery on her brain," Dr. Jacobs said. "Maybe there's something that isn't showing up on the scan. We've contacted another specialist who has done some research in this area, a Dr. Stein. He has a clinic on the other side of the state, and he's expressed an interest in the case. What we would need is consent from you to do this."

"What's the risk to my wife?" I asked.

"There's always a risk where surgery is involved," Dr. Williams said. "I don't believe there's much risk to your wife, but we are concerned that this condition could get worse. The other patient; the man brought in with her; is showing some degradation. It could happen to your wife as well."

"I really need to think about this for a day or so," I said.

"Please don't take too long," Dr. Jacobs said. "If you do, there's a possibility that her brain could simply forget how to keep her heart beating."

"Is it that bad?" I asked.

"Not yet," Dr. Williams said. "But it could get to that point."

"Two days, tops," I said. "Can you give me that much time?"

"I think so," Dr. Jacobs said. "But not much more than that. Her life is on the line here."

"I understand," I said. "More than you know." After I bid my farewell, I headed straight home. When I got there, I pulled out the record with Terri's message and looked at the opposite side; the side with no label. I wound up the Victrola, placed the record on the turntable with the blank label up and put the needle on the record.

"Terri?" I asked. "Can you hear me, Terri? Are you there?" For a second or two, I heard nothing but a scratchy noise come out of the horn. I was about ready to turn it off, when I heard her voice come through.

"Jack?" she asked. "Is that really you, Jack?"

"It's me, dear," I said, excited. "I'm here. Where are you? Are you alright?"

"I don't know where I am, Jack," she said. "It's foggy and dark here. I'm scared. And I'm so lonely."

"I'm here with you, dear," I said. "And we've been lonely for you, too."

"Jack, please help me get out of here," she said.

"I got your message," I said. She began crying.

"I'm so sorry, Jack," she said. "I know it was my body, but I never cheated on you. That Donald guy fooled me into taking that ring. I never should've accepted it or put it on, but I just felt; compelled. After that, Annabelle started taking over. You know I would never have cheated on you. Ever. Please forgive me."

"I've already forgiven you," I said. "I know what Jonas, Donald and Annabelle did to you. They're being punished for it even as we speak." Her crying intensified.

"I love you, Jack," she said. "I miss you and the kids so much. Please help me."

"We miss you too, dear," I said. "Listen to me, please. I have an idea. It's weird, but it's the only thing I could think of."

"What?" she asked.

"Your body is in the hospital," I said. "It's okay, your body is doing just fine, and they say you're healthy, except for your mind. They want to do exploratory surgery on your brain, so we don't have a lot of time."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"I'm going to take this Victrola and this record to your hospital room," I said. "You stay right where you are and don't move until you hear from me, got it?"

"I got it, Jack," she said. I heard nothing for a moment, then: "Jack? Could you do me a favor, please? Pretty please?"

"What's that?" I asked.

"Sing to me, baby. Please?" she begged. I sometimes sang along with some of the old songs I would play. I didn't think I had a very good voice, but she liked to hear me sing anyway. Sometimes, she would even join in. I pulled out a CD and found the song I was looking for, an old World War 2 song sung by Vera Lynn. I put the CD in the player and started the song, singing along with it.

"We'll meet again, Don't know where, Don't know when;

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day;

Keep smiling through, Just like you always do;

Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away"

I couldn't finish the tune as I was crying like a baby by this time. I could hear her crying as well. I stopped the song and sobbed for a few moments, then blew my nose.

"I'm sorry, I can't," I began.

"That's okay, sweetheart," she said softly. "That was all I wanted to hear. I'll stay right here. You go to the hospital, and I'll wait for you."

"Okay," I said. "I love you."

"I love you too, Jack," she said. "And only you. Hurry, now."

"I will," I said. "I'm turning the player off now. I'll talk to you in just a bit."

"Okay, dear," she said. I collected myself before lifting the needle. I didn't want to risk scratching the record. I shut the Victrola down, then packed it into the car, along with the record. I also grabbed a portable CD player and the CD with the Vera Lynn song on it. I left a note for the kids telling them where I was. They had a key to the house and I knew they would be alright.

I headed to the hospital and got some strange looks when I walked in carrying the Victrola. The record and the CD player were in a backpack, carefully packed to protect the record. I got into her room and set the Victrola on the counter. The way it sat, the horn faced Terri as she lay in the bed. Terri looked at me, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the player.

I set up the small CD player, inserted the CD and started playing it. I then put the record on the turntable. I started playing the record, then sat down next to Terri.

"Terri, can you hear me?" I asked.

"I can hear you now," I heard her voice say from the external horn. Terri turned to look at the horn as her voice came out.

"I'm in your hospital room," I said. "Can you hear the music?"

"Yes, I can hear it," she said.

"Okay, I want you to focus on my voice and the music. Can you do that?" I asked.

"I can," she said.

"Follow the sound of my voice and the music. Concentrate on that and nothing else. Do you understand?" I asked.

"I do," she said. "I'm looking around, but; Wait!" she exclaimed.

"What?" I asked.

"I see something; a light," she said. "Off in the distance."

"Try walking to the light," I said.

"I am," she said.

"Do you hear the music louder?" I asked her.

"Yes, I do," she said. "And I can hear you better, also. The light's getting bigger and bigger." I could hear her breathing heavy, as she might do while running.

"What about now?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, laughing. "I can hear you and the music getting louder. And I can feel it."

"Feel what, Terri?" I asked.

"Your love," she said. "It's all around me. It's surrounding me. It's wonderful," she added, laughing. "I'm nearly there. Oh, wait, I'm starting to;� Suddenly, her voice was gone and all I heard was a scratchy noise as the needle neared the last groove on the record. I started to tear up. Had I lost her for good? God, no, I said to myself.

Suddenly, a ball of light shot from the horn of the Victrola and entered Terri's body. I heard a gasp from the door and saw two nurses standing there, their eyes wide with shock. Then I heard the most wonderful sound coming from the bed.

"Jack?" Terri asked. I turned and saw her. Her face had changed just slightly and she looked up at me.

"Terri?" I asked. "Is it really you? Are you back?" She smiled and nodded her head slightly.

"It's me, sweetheart," she said. "We did it." We wrapped our arms around each other and smothered each other's faces with wet kisses. My Terri was back from the purgatory Jonas had tried to exile her to. The nurses were shocked at what they saw and one of them ran to the station to call the doctor. We were both crying and holding each other just as the song ended.

"We'll meet again, Don't know where, Don't know when;

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day."

Epilogue:

The next few days were hectic for all of us. Dr. Jacobs and Dr. Williams both insisted that Terri get a complete check to make sure she had fully recovered. They kept her in the hospital for an extra couple days just to make sure the recovery was complete.

The kids were ecstatic to learn their mother had recovered. The reunion between mother and children was a tearful but happy one.

The brain scan revealed that Terri had indeed recovered and was her normal self. The doctors wanted to know what happened and I showed them the Victrola. They both shook their heads and walked away. They were happy for her recovery, but I sensed a bit of disappointment in them. Oh well, I thought to myself.

We brought her home and celebrated with a steak dinner at her favorite restaurant. While we were eating, she turned to me.

"So, hotshot," she said with a laugh. "When are you and Robert going to take us out for a ride in your Chevy?" We all had a good laugh over that. Later that night, she turned to me in bed.

"I'm not Annabelle, but I did manage to learn a thing or two from her, you know," she said.

"Oh?" I asked. "Like what?" She smiled and took my cock in her hand.

"This," she said, taking my entire manhood in her mouth.

"Oh my God," I moaned as she proceeded to give me a world-class blowjob. She even swallowed when I ejaculated in her mouth. She looked at me while licking her lips.

"That doesn't taste anywhere as bad as I thought it would," she said with a wicked smile. "I could definitely get used to that."

"What about keeping yourself shaved?" I asked.

"You like that, don't you?" she asked.

"Most definitely," I said.

"Well, since you did save my life and brought my soul back from purgatory, I think I can go along with that," she said with a smile. Yep, I thought. My Terri is back.

Life went on in the Thornton house. Terri went back to work and the kids continued their schooling. Robert and I worked on the old Chevy and finally had it ready to roll. After doing the legal stuff with the DMV, we took it out for a ride and had a great time.

Donald, however, didn't fare as well as Terri. A couple weeks after Terri recovered, his organs began shutting down. Shortly thereafter, he died. The doctors said it was renal failure. Terri wasn't too broken up about it, although she felt bad for Vikki.

"I hope he gets what's coming to him," Terri told me privately.

"I have it on good authority that he's getting exactly what he deserves," I told her. I also felt bad for Vikki. She had helped save Terri from Jonas. After Donald died, she shut the house down and refused to let anyone go inside for any reason whatsoever. To this day, she still works at her uncle's shop, selling off the rest of his large inventory.

A couple months after all that, I looked at the record that held Terri's message. I had thought about getting rid of the thing, but I noticed something about it. The label had changed and there was a label on the flip side as well. I put it back in its protective sleeve and marked, "do not play" on the label.

To this day, I get teary-eyed when I hear that Vera Lynn tune.

"We'll meet again, Don't know where, Don't know when;

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day."

Just something a tad different from some of my previous offerings.

Many thanks to those who offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories. For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper...

Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. (Yes, I moderate comments) And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...

Oh, by the way, Happy Halloween;

To be continued, in the series, Amorous Goods; a collaborative storyline for Literotica