"Ghosts fucking me in my sleep?" sneering Camilla whispered to Candice, hoping the other passengers on the airplane wouldn't hear. "Come on, Candice. You're sounding like those Satanic crazies. There's probably a perfectly rational explanation for what happened."
"OK," Candice whispered. "Like what? What could have made your pussy and asshole open up like that, without anything in them?"
"The Nigrovum, more than likely," Camilla said. "It seems to intensify feelings, and grant our wishes; that's what Dr. Singh thinks, anyway. We wanna heal, so we heal quicker. We wanted the Satanists to die, so they died. In my dream, I wanted to get laid, so I imagined I was really getting cock inside me; so you saw what you saw."
"Yeah," Candice said. "So did a bunch of other passengers."
"Well, I'll have to be careful not to sleep in public places. I can't control my subconscious desires, of course. Ever since that Satanic party, I haven't been laid at all, except for the few fuck videos I made with Bob. I was bound to dream like I did, to satisfy my sexual frustration. Wish-fulfillment, all the way."
"If it's all about wish-fulfillment, how did your teachers die?"
"Maybe they were self-destructive," Camilla said, shrugging. "I dunno."
The man who was watching Camilla during her dream, and who earlier had been watching Candice's iPad behind her back, didn't return to his seat after his second embarrassing ejaculation. Candice noticed his continuing absence among the other passengers. I bet he's hiding in the washroom for the rest of the ride, she thought, snickering to herself.
**************
Agape Mennon sat on a chair in the 'Arrivals' area of Toronto Pearson International Airport; he had a hip flask of Jim Beam in his hand. Already tipsy from several swigs, he was looking at a photo of his daughter when she was six, then up at the clock (it was 6:23 AM), then at the schedule (ETA fifteen minutes), then back at the photo; this cycle of gazes had been going on uninterrupted for the past ten minutes.
"My sweet little baby," he said as he gazed at the smiling, innocent, skinny, pig-tailed Camilla of his photograph, which he'd had in his wallet all those years since he'd divorced Collette. "Look at those baby blue eyes." He knew the divorce had devastated her, but one wouldn't have known that to hear the elation in her voice when she'd called him long distance from Vancouver over a month ago, asking if she could see him again. Over a decade had gone by since he'd last seen her, and he had no idea what to expect of her as she was now. He'd seen no recent photographs of her; the one in his hand was his most recent.
And what of her personality? On the phone she sounded as ebullient with joy as she had been before the divorce; but sometimes bitterness hides behind smiles. He'd always felt guilty about leaving her fatherless, and some kind of evil had to have grown from the hysterical tears she'd cried from the day he had to say good-bye to her.
**************
The airplane was coming down, about to touch the ground. Camilla looked out the window in nervous expectation. Her heart was pounding.
"Oh, God," she said in a trembling voice. "I'm gonna see him."
**************
Agape took another swig from his flask of bourbon as he looked at the schedule, which indicated her plane's landing.
"Oh, God," he said. "I'm gonna see her."
**************
After getting into the airport, the girls went to the nearest washroom. Camilla freshened up, putting on more bright makeup and nervously looking over herself in the mirror.
"Why are you so anxious to look perfect, Camil?" Candice asked as she re-applied some makeup. "You're seeing your dad, not going on a date."
"I know," Camilla said as she put red lipstick on. "I want him to be proud to have a beautiful daughter."
"You don't have to work so hard to do
that
," Candice said.
"I wanna be more beautiful than beautiful," Camilla said, checking her dark blue evening gown for any problems. "No, I didn't get any come on it from that dream--good." Then she checked her cleavage to see that a sufficiently titillating amount was showing. "I want him to know that I'm not the skinny, homely child I once was; I've blossomed gloriously, and I want him to be proud...OK, I'm ready. Let's go."
"OK," Candice said. "Don't be in such a hurry. Let me put my stuff in my purse, and we'll go."
"I can't wait any longer. C'mon!" Camilla took Candice by the arm and led her out of the washroom.
As they went through the halls of the airport, Candice saw that man whom she'd made cream his pants on the airplane. He blushed when his wife, just then meeting him in the 'Arrivals' section, saw his still-wet pants. Candice giggled. "Serves you right, asshole," she said.
Camilla's eyes raced all over the large room, searching through the sea of waiting people to find her dad. Then she saw him. "Oh, my God," she said. "Candice, there he is." She pointed him out. Tall, with wisps of grey hair intermixed with his more dominant blond, and in a white short-sleeved dress shirt and dark blue dress pants, the forty-something man indeed looked to Candice like Mr. Grisham, only much better-looking. "Daddy!" A tear ran down Camilla's cheek. "Daddy, over here!"
Agape looked up from his photo and saw his
18-year-old
daughter for the first time. He recognized the face under all the heavy makeup, but he didn't recognize the body at all. No longer the skinny little girl of his photo, she was now a buxom, shapely, callipygian beauty. His jaw dropped, and his eyes almost fell out from his lack of belief of what they were telling him. "How did an owl such as I produce a pussycat like that?" he asked himself as he saw her approaching. "Is that really my
daughter
?"
She and Candice were coming closer, slowed down only by their heavy bags. He was too awed by her transformation, from childlike flatlands to womanly topography, to think to walk over and help them with their luggage. He kept looking up from his photo to see the statuesque Aphrodite coming up to him, then back down at the photo of his once-innocent child, as would a confused customs official eyeing a dubious passport.
Finally, the girls reached him. Camilla threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Kissing him hard on the cheek, she said, "Oh, Daddy! It's ecstasy to see you again."
"NIce assonance," he said.
Looking back at her behind and grinning, she said, "Oh, thank you."
Blushing and astonished at her words, he stammered, "I meant--uh, I wasn't talking about--uh, the word asson--, uh..."
Candice was as surprised by Camilla's excessive affection as he was;
Camilla was still hugging him tightly.
"Daddy?" she asked after smelling his breath. "Have you been drinking?"
"Yeah," he said. "Hair of the dog."
"Oh, Daddy, she took you away from me," Camilla said in sobs.
"Sweetie," he said nervously, taking her arms from his waist. "W-why don't I take you home now? I've set up the guest bedroom to accommodate both of you. You must be tired."