Elena’s sultry voice drew him to a table close to the stage. Her eyes seemed to swallow him whole. Jim’s huge hand encircled his drink and tightened around it. The fragile vessel burst as his powerful grip crushed it. He glanced down and realized the shards of glass had cut his hand. It didn’t matter. His gaze was fixed on the stage. The woman seemed so familiar. A shiver shot down his backbone as she finished singing and stepped off the stage.
    Jim could feel her presence as she slowly walked past his table and hesitated, looking down at him.  “Oh! I believe you cut your hand! Let me help.” Elena took his hand in her’s and wrapped a napkin around the cut.
    He was surprised at the amount of strength in her hands. And there was something unnerving about her presence. “It’s okay, it's just a scratch.”
    Elena smiled slightly. “Let me order you another drink. May I join you?”
    Jim motioned to the chair across the table and Elena sat down. They sat staring silently at each other for a moment. Jim fidgeted nervously. “I’m sure you’ve heard this at least a thousand times, but I feel like we’ve met before.”
    “I don’t think so. I’ve never seen you here before and I’ve been appearing here for the past six months. Do you live here in the city, or are you just passing through?”
    Jim smiled. “I moved here recently. I had a shop upstate for several years, but I was badly injured about a year ago and life hasn’t been the same since. Now I’m here.”
    “How ironic!” Elena responded. “I suffered a serious injury nearly a year ago. I was travelling upstate and my car ran off the highway. I nearly died.”
    “I’m glad to see you survived.” Jim was infatuated with the brunette woman sitting across the table from him. And he was unnerved by the sense of familiarity he felt for her. They sat talking for a a few minutes longer and she excused herself. “My break's over. It’s time to make more music. Will you stay for my last set?”
    “Yes! I believe I will.” Jim watched as she returned to the stage.
    The music resumed and he sat silently staring as the sound of her voice penetrated his mind. The melody she sang had a hypnotic quality to it. He lost all sense of time as he remembered that fateful night a year before. He’d been having some strange dreams since he’d fired William and one stormy night as he drove home from his shop he’d run off the road just outside of town and lay bleeding in the brush on the side of the highway. What happened next was impossible for Jim to reconcile in his memory, but he vaguely remembered a woman kneeling by his side, asking if he needed help. Then there was a period of darkness and he awoke at home in his bed. He had attributed the experience to a bad dream until the next morning.
     When he awoke he was shocked to find William’s truck in his driveway. His truck was nowhere to be found. Later in the day he received a call from the Sherrif, telling him they’d found his truck wrecked outside of town. Jim admitted that he’d had a wreck. Nothing more came of the event. Then a week later, Jim’s shop mysteriously burned to the ground. The fire investigation indicated the cause to be faulty wiring. Jim wasn’t so sure, but he took the insurance payment, sold his home and moved away.
    Now he was listening to a strangely familiar woman singing hauntingly beautiful music. As the evening drew to a close, Elena returned to his table. She smiled at him. “Would you like to stop by my place for a nightcap?”
    “Yes! I’d love to.” He was shocked. It was as if someone were answering for him, but it was his voice. He had agreed to join her, yet he felt uneasy. It was as if she controlled his mind.
    They arrived at Elena’s apartment and Jim followed her inside. They sat talking and sharing drinks for several hours. The liquor was effecting Elena and she became increasingly amorous. As night gave way to sunrise, Jim found himself in bed with her. She was like a wild animal. Her appetite for sex was insatiable. Exhausted and thoroughly contented, they slowly drifted off to sleep.
    The sound of a train whistle filled Jim’s mind. He found himself standing with Elena on a wooden boarding platform and in the distance he could see a sleek, black locomotive appear, pulling seven railcars behind. It came to a stop at the platform and a tall, slender conductor stepped down and motioned to them. “All aboard!” He shouted.
    Jim and Elena boarded the train and made their way to the dining car. Jim felt he’d been there before, but he wasn’t sure. He and Elena sat silently staring out the window into the sunrise spreading out onto the desert floor. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. Jim turned to see who it was standing next to him. The man smiled slightly and nodded. His hair was long and gray. His eyes peered at Jim, boring through him like a hot knife through butter. “I’ve been expecting you two for quite some time. We have much to discuss.”
    Elena’s expression froze as she peered first at Jim and then at the man standing next to him. “Hello, Andrew. It’s been far too long since I saw you last.”
    Andrew slowly placed a hand on her shoulder. “Enjoy your breakfast. After you eat we need to discuss how you propose to return the lives you took to their rightful owners. William and Celia would like to reclaim their existence.”

    William slammed the lid down on his tool box, his eyes flashing with rage. “Fuck you, Jim! Fuck you, fuck this shop....... just fuck it all!”
    Jim stared at him, saying nothing. William was a good mechanic. An asshole but a good mechanic. His competence was all that kept him from being terminated  sooner. William had a history of violent outbursts. Jim glanced down, noticing a wrench on the floor, a mute remnant of the tool-throwing rampage only moments earlier.
    “ I really  hate to let you go William, but I just ain’t gonna put up with any more crap. This’s the end of the god damn line. I’ll have your check ready for ya’ by the time you get your tools loaded.”  
    As he walked away William hurled a few more obscenities, followed by a crude referance to Jim’s mixed ethnic heritage. The other mechanics in the shop stopped working, not sure what would happen next. Jim came to a stop and slowly turned around. Anger blazed in his eyes and he drew a deep breath. He turned and continued walking into the office. William had no idea how close he’d come to a  terrible beating. Jim was not a small man. No longer prone to violence, Jim had served ten years in prison for manslaughter when he was in his early twenties. What began as a disagreement over money escalated into violence. Jim used too much force to make his point. Maybe that was why he'd hired William. Despite William’s foul temper and frequent outbursts of anger, Jim wanted to give him a chance. Now the chances were used up. It was time for William to go. He’d been fired from many jobs and there would be many more.
    William backed his battered truck into the shop and began throwing his tools in the back. Jim handed him his paycheck and reached out to shake his hand. William scowled, grabbed his check and stuffed it in his shirt. The sound of squealing tires echoed through the shop. Jim shook his head.  “There goes a man down the highway to hell.”
    William ordered another drink as he fidgeted on his stool. The bartender gave him a stern look and said nothing. He pushed  the glass of Jim Beam across the bar. William had been warned twice to keep his mouth shut. Fortunately most of the bar patrons viewed him as a minor irritant. As he sat sullen and inebriated, William spied a man and woman sitting quietly across the room. She was white, her companion black. Racial slurs filled the air. The bartender grabbed William by the shirt. “You’re ass is out’a here!”
    William stared out the windshield. The rainfall made it nearly impossible to see the road. Rounding a curve, he blinked his eyes repeatedly and stepped down on the brake pedal. Off to the side of the road lay an upended vehicle. Glass and metal were scattered across the pavement. William parked, grabbed a flashlight and jumped out, staring at the accident site. He shined the light into the wrecked vehicle. There was no one inside. William staggered slightly, struggling to regain his balance. The whiskey had dulled his senses. He crawled through the opening where the windshield had been and surveyed the interior of the car. There were papers and personal belongings scattered everywhere. William pawed through the items looking for something of value he could confiscate. There was nothing except a half-empty pack of cigarettes. He shoved them in his pocket and stood up.
    Through the darkness he heard a faint scream. He  turned and peered into the night. There it was again. He stumbled down the embankment, falling onto his hands and knees. “Son of a fuck’n bitch! God damn!”
    Dripping wet and muddy, William made his way  further into the thick underbrush. The screams and moans were more frequent. The voice sounded  female. About fifty feet ahead he found her. She was lying on the ground covered with blood, her clothing torn and one shoe missing. Her breathing was shallow and raspy. “Help me! Please help me.”    
    William’s first impulse was to leave. He was drunk, confused and unsure what to do. He knelt down and peered at the young woman’s face. Blood ran from a jagged cut at the base of her neck. She squinted her eyes, trying to focus. William stared back at her. She was beautiful with a pale complexion, high cheek bones and almond eyes. Her long black hair lay in disheveled strands across her shoulders. Something about her made William want to help but he had no idea what to do. The woman moaned again, obviously in pain. “Take my hand.” Her request was barely audible.
    William reached down and took her hand. It was smaller than his, yet her grip was surprisingly strong. He started to speak. He was unable to. He reached for his throat. It felt as if he were drowning. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak. There was nothing but silence. Panic flashed in his eyes. He could no longer feel the rain. Blackness settled over him like a cold, wet blanket.
    A  figure made it’s way up the embankment to the highway. Looking back, she smiled. “What a nice man. I don’t know  what I would have done if he hadn’t come along.”  
    Through the darkness of night came the sound of a haunting train whistle. A sleek, black locomotive appeared, pulling seven rail cars and a caboose. As the train came to a stop, the woman hurried toward it. A tall, silver-haired conductor stepped down and nodded to her with a faint smile. “Welcome aboard, ma’am. We’ve been expecting you.”
    The woman smiled and boarded the train, taking a seat by the window in the dining car . . . on the Hitchcock Railway. Across the aisle, sitting alone at a table, a man smiled. "Hi. My name's Jim. May I join you?"

    Blind Willie would open the show every night down at the Kenton Club with an old blues standard, Stormy Monday Blues. He and the Blue Plate Band played six nights a week at the Kenton, a funky bar a few blocks from Interstate Avenue, deep in the heart of Portland’s northeast side. Willie was both black and blind. He'd sit behind that magnificent Hammond B-3 and his entire soul would pour out of the huge Leslie  speakers sitting behind him.
    When I first met Willie I was passing through Portland, there to do a job and then be moving on. There was something about the city, something about this part of the northwest that coaxed me back. A couple’ve years later I returned and stayed. And I often spent my free time sitting in with Willie and his band. Other times I’d just drop into the club, grab a stool at the bar and listen to the band play blues.
    Somewhere along the way during those first few years in the city, my life began to unravel. Sadness settled in all around me like the cold, winter rain and I struggled to accept that the one I loved so much was gone from my life forever. Willie knew I was working my way through some hard times. We never spoke much about it, but I was sure he’d been down that same lonesome highway.
    Late one stormy January evening I wandered into the Kenton Club and took a seat at the bar. My emotions were jammed up inside me until I felt like I was going to explode. Even the booze didn’t help, but I tried anyway.
    I was on my third drink when the opening chords of a song slammed into my mind. I turned and let the music wash over me as I listened to Willie share some of the most powerful blues music I’ve ever heard. He was doing a cover of an old Etta James tune called “I’d Rather Go Blind.” As I listened to the music I began to understand the incredible hurt he’d endured in his past and the loss of sight that followed.
    The emotions buried deep inside me began to escape. I sat on my stool, silent tears running down my face. I glanced at the bartender. She gave me a sort of bittersweet smile followed by an expression of concern as if to ask if I were okay. I nodded, swallowed the last of my drink and waved good-night to Willie and the band.
    Work took me away from the Kenton Club for a few months and when I arrived back in town I was anxious to see my old friend again. I walked into the club one night, glanced at the stage and was surprised to see a group of young musicians playing where Willie and his band had always been. I glanced at the bartender with a quizzical expression. “Where’s Willie play’n now?” I asked.
    “Didn’t you know?” She responded. “Willie died last month.”
    Her words hit me like a brick slamming into the side of my head. I was silent for a moment and then ordered a shot of rum. “Here’s to you old friend. I’ll see ya again one day, somewhere out there on that long, lonesome highway, or on some hot, dusty country back road.”
    Willie’s not really gone you see, his memory’s still alive and well . . . deep inside’ve me.

Love is like an ocean
Some never venture past the shore
Frozen with galvanizing fear
Screams of ecstacy they’ll never hear.

Love is like an ocean
Some choose to wade in shallow water
They let the water touch them slightly
Tears of sadness falling all around
A life devoid of sight and sound.

Love is like an ocean
Maps, sextant and compass
Driven by a strong sense of detail
Hopes and dreams on a magical scale.

Love is like an ocean
Eyes smiling and new
Sailing is just what we do.

Love is like an ocean.
Riding together on high seas
A sensual moonlight breeze

Love is like an ocean
A lover’s longing deep inside.
A gentle push and pull
Swells riding a warm and passionate tide.

Love is like an ocean.
Emotion ebbs and flows
Crests of pleasure 
Valleys deep and low.

Love is like an ocean.
My soulmate standing next to me
Setting sail for the mysteries
That only she and I will ever see.

    Moonlight danced through the trees as Shilo and Dillon walked hand-in-hand slowly along the pathway by the river. The reflections on the water were like surrealistic renderings, a blending of shadow and substance. It was a delightful end to a beautiful day filled with laughter, an afternoon spent making love, a wonderfully romantic dinner and now, a walk by the water.
    Daylight was just beginning as they returned to their room. Shilo turned to Dillon, put her arms around his neck and pulled him close, her eager mouth finding his. They kissed passionately as they undressed and fell into bed, a tangle of arms and legs.
    Dillon pulled Shilo close, his arms positioning her on top of him. His mouth captured her erect nipple and his tongue teased it erect. Slowly he released it and captured the other. Shilo’s breathing came in ragged bursts as her fingers tugged at her lover’s hair, guiding his hungry mouth from one breast to the other.
    Dillon could feel Shilo’s thighs scissoring his erect cock, slowly driving him crazy.
She smiled wickedly as she slowly slid down Dillon’s body and captured his cock with her hungry pussy lips, feeling him penetrate her ever so slowly. Passionate moans filled the air as Dillon’s hips thrust upward, meshing with Shilo’s powerful lunges in an erotic rhythm. Shilo pushed herself upright and her fingers gripped her lover’s waist as she gasped and screamed with pleasure. Dillon could feel her nearing completion as he bucked and thrashed beneath her, his fiery love liquid nearing release.
    The lovers exploded in a magnificent burst of liquid and pleasure as the morning sun shone through the window. It was an incredible beginning to a magnificent morning. A day filled with the love they shared. Shilo’s breathing gradually slowed as she fell onto her lover and they lay quietly, covered with a blanket of contentment.
    It was midday when Dillon woke. He reached for a crumpled cigarette pack on the nightstand and lit a smoke, lying quietly watching Shilo sleep. He loved watching her. Shilo’s eyes opened slowly and she smiled. “Whatcha doin’?”
    “Lyin’ here realizing how much I love you.”
    “I love you to sweet man. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am right now.” With that Shilo snuggled close and let her lips trace patterns of passion on Dillon’s skin. She could feel his body moving to the rhythm of her kisses. Her mouth  captured his stiff member and he could feel her tongue dancing on the tip. Dillon’s primal screams made Shilo even hotter and she continued to drive him crazy with passion. She could feel his fingers in her hair, pulling harder and harder as he came closer to release.
    Shilo was merciless, working magic with her tongue and her lips. Dillon’s body shuddered uncontrollably as Shilo coaxed every drop of cum from him. An evil grin spread across Shilo’s face as she continued, feeling her lover thrashing and moaning uncontrollably.
    Passionate flames licked at her hot, wet pussy as she positioned herself on Dillon’s face, feeling his hungry mouth licking and sucking and nibbling. Her thighs tightened around his head as she screamed with pleasure, pulling his hair as she felt his tongue urging her higher and hotter.
    Dillon clawed her ass cheeks and massaged her firm breasts as she thrust her hips with wild abandon, feeling herself reach the pinnacle of a voracious climax. Her screams of pleasure filled the air and her muscles quivered uncontrollably. It felt as though she couldn’t stop. One climax led to another in an exquisite procession of pleasure. Shilo’s tousled  hair framed her sweat-streaked face and she threw her head back as she gasped for air. “Oh! Oh, baby! I can’t take any more. Oh God! That feels so good!”
    Dillon was intent on sucking Shilo dry. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, pulled her closer and teased her swollen clit with his tongue. Shilo was wild with arousal, the intensity of her orgasms almost more than she could stand. She felt her body shuddering uncontrollably as she erupted once more with a burst of heat and love liquid that left her barely able to catch her breath. She collapsed on the bed, panting and sweating as she lay smiling at her lover, too exhausted to move. The pleasure and love coursing through her body was greater than any she’d ever experienced before.
    Dillon reached down and pullled her body close to his as he whispered his love to her. “Now you know. Dreams really DO come true!”