Dreams and Shadows by C. Robert Cargill

did.”
    She giggled. “Time isn’t all that hard to get away from. Like you.”
    Abraham tried to spin around on his rock. It wasn’t working. His head merely flopped back and forth on his neck. “What do you mean?”
    â€œYou wouldn’t know hard to get if it walked up and hit you with a brick.”
    â€œHard to . . . hard to get?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œYou were playing hard to get?” he asked.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œYou’re good.”
    â€œYou’ve got to be,” she said with a wry smile.
    â€œWhy’d you wait so long?”
    â€œI wanted to make sure you weren’t a creep.”
    â€œOh. Am I a creep?”
    â€œNo, but your friend is. Do you know what he wanted me to do?”
    He thought for a moment about the dozens of stories Dallas had told him, about all the things he’d gotten women to do. “Probably.” It wasn’t hard to imagine how he’d chased Carly off. “I can guess, I mean.”
    â€œWell, do you have any ideas about what you could get me to do?”
    Abe giggled a little. “I could think of something, I suppose.”
    â€œWell then, what are you still doing on that rock?”
    â€œI can’t really move.”
    â€œYes, you can.”
    â€œNo, I mean, I’ve become one with it or something.”
    â€œNo, you haven’t. I’m not coming over there. You’ll have to come over here. So summon the strength of the earth or the ancients or whatever you have to do, but get your ass off that rock and over here. I want to show you something.”
    That got Abe’s attention. He sat up, the energy of the universe flowing through him, the stars and wind against his back, and he levitated from the rock as if willed to do so by a powerful force. There was an electric pulse on the night air and he could feel it now. It originated deep inside the pit of his gut, tethered to the shadowy, naked form of Carly, hidden just behind the bushes. He was drawn to her. It was meant to be. There he floated above the ground, his legs no longer responding to what his brain was telling them, his torso drifting, barely supported by them. Wait, was he drifting or was he walking? He couldn’t tell anymore.
    His floating stopped a few feet from her, his center of gravity shifting as he wobbled atop a pair of rubbery legs. The pulse was stronger standing next to her, the dull hum of the world originating from where she was standing, as if Carly herself was the center of the universe. Was she, he wondered, the center of the universe? He didn’t know. There was a lot he didn’t know; he was beginning to realize that. The universe was a vast expanse, far greater than he could ever conceive, and he had seen but a fraction of an inch of it. Tears started to form in the corners of his eyes as he finally understood what the universe was trying to tell him.
    â€œThose were really good mushrooms, weren’t they?” she asked.
    â€œYeah,” Abe snapped back. For an instant, he wished his mouth could match the poetry in his mind. That his mouth worked at all astonished him.
    â€œWill you dance with me?”
    He smiled and giggled oafishly. “Yeah.”
    â€œDance with me,” she cooed. She shimmered, as if she were made of gemstones, and as she swayed, the moonlight glimmered off her curves. Her eyes locked with his, her sway becoming a writhe. Then the writhe became a swagger and she took slow, sensual steps toward him. A twirl, a wave, a beckon. She was dancing now, fully invested in the throes of a lurid seduction. “ Dance with me .”
    He wasn’t going to blow it this time. Abe began to dance. There was no rhythm to his movement, no fluidity, no poetry. The moves he made were absurd; a prancing duck amid elegant swans fared better at attracting a mate. Carly smiled; the dance was enough. Every molecule in his body exploded, awash in tingling arousal, doused