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Authors: David Gordon
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reentered our room, where I lay in the dark, pretending to be one of her clients, waving a fat wad of New Taiwan dollars and waiting for the robe to fall.
We returned to New York, and that autumn, things began to change between Nina and me, as if the spell had been broken, although who had cast it on whom, I don’t know.
Maybe it was because we were so obviously ill suited that our breakup, while not without sadness, was bloodless, even friendly, and we kept in touch. Or she did, always being the one to call and suggest a meeting. But I always agreed. After all, she was extremely attractive, with big shiny eyes and the light bones of a dancer, small waist, compact torso, long arms and legs. Whenever we got together for coffee or a movie, I ended up trying to squeeze her and she usually acceded.
I’d agreed to meet Nina and discuss her research project, and was waiting in front of the Hungarian, my usual coffee shop, when she popped out of a Porsche SUV (I didn’t know they existed either) driven by a sleeveless muscleman in a ponytail.
“New bodyguard?” I asked.
“Music producer,” she said. “He likes my stuff.”
“I’ll bet.” I noticed that she didn’t mind kissing me on the mouth while he could see. “Hey,” I said as we went inside, “that’s my sweatshirt.” It was a gray hoodie, much too big, that made her look like a monk.
“I found it.” She sat cross-legged on the chair and shook herlight hair from the hood. “Anyway, I can’t give it back right now. I’m not wearing anything underneath.”
This was enough to fill my mind with possible squeezings, so I let it go for the moment. We ordered and I asked, “Now what’s this about ex-lovers and a former life?”
It had all begun at her acting school. Of course. It turns out one of her teachers was a channeler on the side.
“Channeler? Like a medium or something?”
“It’s kind of like that,” she said. “She’s amazing. This girl in the school was auditioning for the Usher movie. So my teacher went into the future and cleaned the room where the auditions were going to be, and she got the part.”
“What’s Usher?”
“He’s only like the hugest pop star, but of course you wouldn’t know.”
Actually, it sounded familiar. The movie had tanked, and I’d seen it on sale at the video store.
“This lady is amazing,” Nina went on. “She’s really just one of those spiritually enlightened souls you meet sometimes.”
“I’ve never met any,” I said.
“That’s because you’re not open. If you’re open, they find you.”
“If she’s got such powers, how come she doesn’t just spend all day helping cancer kids or spreading world peace? How could she charge money? Or waste her talent helping some actress get a part in a crappy movie? Why is it more spiritual for her to get the part than another girl? Spiritual to me is Gandhi or Martin Luther King or something. Everything else is just a magic trick.”
She looked at me pityingly. “You’re such a hater,” she said.Then, spooning up hot cocoa, she told me about the weekend workshop this channeling teacher gave. It involved rolling on the floor to various kinds of music, African drumming, Balinese gamelan gonging, Sufi chanting, each associated with a different chakra. Also they would “call in” colors. I asked what that meant.
“You know, like you call in blue. Or you call in red.”
“Like you try to feel blueness or something?”
“Kind of.”
“Was this naked?” The whole thing sounded both ridiculous and perverse, but not in a good way, and I knew her acting classes occasionally involved running around naked and crying.
“No, of course not. It figures you would ask that.” She shook her head sadly. “It was transformative. And after the workshop, Betsy—that’s the teacher—said I had a lot of spirits around me, a lot of energy emanating.”
“Of course,” I said. “That’s how they sucker you in.”
Nina ignored me. “Then she
We returned to New York, and that autumn, things began to change between Nina and me, as if the spell had been broken, although who had cast it on whom, I don’t know.
Maybe it was because we were so obviously ill suited that our breakup, while not without sadness, was bloodless, even friendly, and we kept in touch. Or she did, always being the one to call and suggest a meeting. But I always agreed. After all, she was extremely attractive, with big shiny eyes and the light bones of a dancer, small waist, compact torso, long arms and legs. Whenever we got together for coffee or a movie, I ended up trying to squeeze her and she usually acceded.
I’d agreed to meet Nina and discuss her research project, and was waiting in front of the Hungarian, my usual coffee shop, when she popped out of a Porsche SUV (I didn’t know they existed either) driven by a sleeveless muscleman in a ponytail.
“New bodyguard?” I asked.
“Music producer,” she said. “He likes my stuff.”
“I’ll bet.” I noticed that she didn’t mind kissing me on the mouth while he could see. “Hey,” I said as we went inside, “that’s my sweatshirt.” It was a gray hoodie, much too big, that made her look like a monk.
“I found it.” She sat cross-legged on the chair and shook herlight hair from the hood. “Anyway, I can’t give it back right now. I’m not wearing anything underneath.”
This was enough to fill my mind with possible squeezings, so I let it go for the moment. We ordered and I asked, “Now what’s this about ex-lovers and a former life?”
It had all begun at her acting school. Of course. It turns out one of her teachers was a channeler on the side.
“Channeler? Like a medium or something?”
“It’s kind of like that,” she said. “She’s amazing. This girl in the school was auditioning for the Usher movie. So my teacher went into the future and cleaned the room where the auditions were going to be, and she got the part.”
“What’s Usher?”
“He’s only like the hugest pop star, but of course you wouldn’t know.”
Actually, it sounded familiar. The movie had tanked, and I’d seen it on sale at the video store.
“This lady is amazing,” Nina went on. “She’s really just one of those spiritually enlightened souls you meet sometimes.”
“I’ve never met any,” I said.
“That’s because you’re not open. If you’re open, they find you.”
“If she’s got such powers, how come she doesn’t just spend all day helping cancer kids or spreading world peace? How could she charge money? Or waste her talent helping some actress get a part in a crappy movie? Why is it more spiritual for her to get the part than another girl? Spiritual to me is Gandhi or Martin Luther King or something. Everything else is just a magic trick.”
She looked at me pityingly. “You’re such a hater,” she said.Then, spooning up hot cocoa, she told me about the weekend workshop this channeling teacher gave. It involved rolling on the floor to various kinds of music, African drumming, Balinese gamelan gonging, Sufi chanting, each associated with a different chakra. Also they would “call in” colors. I asked what that meant.
“You know, like you call in blue. Or you call in red.”
“Like you try to feel blueness or something?”
“Kind of.”
“Was this naked?” The whole thing sounded both ridiculous and perverse, but not in a good way, and I knew her acting classes occasionally involved running around naked and crying.
“No, of course not. It figures you would ask that.” She shook her head sadly. “It was transformative. And after the workshop, Betsy—that’s the teacher—said I had a lot of spirits around me, a lot of energy emanating.”
“Of course,” I said. “That’s how they sucker you in.”
Nina ignored me. “Then she
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