at the desk, then the morning’s strange dream, and now the evening’s even stranger reality. It was all so farfetched it was unbelievable. But then, the notes were solid. I’d touched them. The dream was real. I’d recognized Bahlin and known his name. The man was real. I’d felt him. Using modus ponens, if this was tangible then it must be believable. Ergo, it was very believable. Wait. I was using logic to make sense of this? And where the hell had I come up with modus ponens? I began to shake. First the imaginary events at the stone circle and now this. I was losing my mind.
I heard footsteps approach the door.
“Maddy,” Bahlin said softly, a complete change of character from only moments before. “Maddy, open the door. Please.”
I didn’t respond.
“Maddy, I will open this door, but I would prefer you do it yourself.”
I stood, my muscles shaking from adrenaline overload and the fear of my apparent break with reality. I turned and put my hand on the bathroom door handle. If I believed what was happening, then I knew Bahlin could open this door. Even if he couldn’t use telekinesis, he’s strong enough to force his way in. I turned the door handle, pulling the door open and jumped back. He was leaning against the door jam, eyes closed, arms at his sides. I took a quick step backward, wondering how I would defend myself in such a small space. Hair gel to the eyes? Then I realized he was holding both pieces of vellum in one hand.
“You went through my pants?” I shrieked, realizing where he had to have found the papers.
“You weren’t in them so don’t screech at me,” he answered, never opening his eyes.
I stood there, not sure whether to push past him and retrieve my clothes or stand in front of him, indefinitely, in my borrowed bathrobe. I chose clothes.
“Uh, excuse me for a moment.”
He didn’t move.
“Seriously, Bahlin, I want to put on some clothes before we talk about whatever was so important to you that you felt justified in breaking into my room, accosting me, and then digging through my pants.” I turned to the side and squeezed past him; he moved back a small step. I retrieved the clothes I had intended to put on earlier—jeans, navy T-shirt, underwear, socks. I went back into the bathroom and started to shut the door.
“Leave it open,” he said quietly.
“No,” I answered, equally quietly. “I’m closing it. I won’t lock it, because that appears to be a useless means of keeping you the hell out. But I won’t leave the door open. Get your jollies somewhere else, asshat.” I shut the door in his face, and he didn’t stop me.
I dressed in record time standing wedged in the space between the edge of the bathtub and the hinges of the door. I’d chosen to leave my shoes out in the room because I figured if I took them, Bahlin would assume I was going to try to run. Good assumption. While I was in the bathroom I finger-combed my hair but skipped make-up. What was the point?
I walked back into the room and found Bahlin sitting in the desk chair again, leaning with his head back, eyes closed, hands folded across his stomach. He appeared relaxed if you didn’t look too closely, but the tension radiating off of him killed the superficial impression. I sat on the edge of the bed farthest from him and closest to the front door. That he wasn’t forcing the issue about me sitting closer to him was a good thing. It gave me a sense of control of the situation, however false it might be.
“I’m ready to read the notes,” I said softly.
His eyes opened to slits and shifted to look at me. The rest of him stayed very, very still. “They’re here on the desk.” It was an open challenge to get near him again.
“Fold them back up and toss them over here.” I wasn’t about to get within an arm’s reach of him without being forced, so he could toss the papers over.
“Afraid?” he asked, sitting up and looking at me in a predatory way.
“Cautious,” I replied. “I don’t know you, yet you’ve starred in a dream of mine, then you’ve shown up here and basically assaulted me. So yeah, consider me cautious.”
“Why not try for the door then, sweetheart?” he asked in a snarky tone.
“I have a feeling you’d do some freaky telekinesis crap, and I’d