Jessie slept heavily for the remainder of the day, arising only when the long shadows on the porch threatened to disappear altogether into unfeatured darkness.  Aside from the bloodstain on the little carpet by her bed, the room offered no signs of her morning visitor.  She emerged from bed fearfully, casting a hesitant glance at herself in the mirror.  Her image in reflection showed no visible changes.  In the failing daylight, she could perceive furniture and other objects through her translucent flesh. Under candle light, she glowed like an amber bead in the sunlight.  She allowed her hands to wander freely over her new body, admiring herself from every possible angle.
            “Now, you are irresistible.” she told her reflection.
            A young man from the postal service arrived at eleven, throwing the first awkward surprise into her future.  She pulled back the latch and discovered to her horror that she could not grasp the handle and turn the knob.  In desperation she called out to him that she had been bathing when he knocked and was undressed. Would he please let himself in and leave the package on the table.  When he had come and gone, Jessie heaved a grateful sigh of relief. Angrily, she conjured up an image of the demon in her mind and summoned him.
            “Already?”  The familiar voice greeted her when she opened her eyes.
            “What’s the meaning of locking me in here?” she demanded, thwacking him on the arm.  For an instant, she wondered at the change in their relationship that allowed her to strike him.
            “I?” he lay an innocent hand over his breast, mocking her.  “You are free to go whenever and wherever you wish.  I’m not stopping you.”
            She pushed past him angrily and stomped over to the door, where she turned the handle and yanked it open, standing in the sunlight blinking stupidly.  “How did that happen?” she asked of nobody.  Humiliation spread scarlet wings over her cheeks and she clamped her lips shut in anger.
            “Same as usual.” he told her.  “Nothing has changed.” he curled his lip and presented the side of his head to her suspiciously. “You didn’t try to break one of the cardinal rules did you?” he asked.
            “What rules?”  Jessie’s voice edged out slowly, fearful of retaliation. “You didn’t tell me of any rules, cardinal or otherwise.”
            “You didn’t take the time to ask, as I recall.” he shot back.  “But don’t worry.  You can’t break the rules.  It’s not possible.”
            Jessie drew in several deep, serious breaths in a row, gathering her composure.  She took the time to count her teeth with her tongue before she spoke.  “What rules?” she inquired cautiously.
            “The rules of the game, of course.” he took her hand and stroked her fingers with his own. “You have such lovely hands. So talented.” he told her, trying her patience.  When he looked into her face again, she saw a hardness there that she didn’t like.  “Every game has rules.  This one, like any other has its own.”  An uncompromising line dominated his brow.
            “What rules?” Jessie repeated, jumping in with a side comment before he could answer.  “And before you try to hand me another facetious one-liner, remember, if I have to ask you four times, then you owe me.”  A melancholy smile pulled at her face, seeking to redeem her lost reserve.  “I have read a book or two.” she reminded him.
            “Fulminating remarks are most unbecoming.” he chided her, frowning visibly.  “And completely unnecessary.” he sat down on the sofa and stretched his legs out, leaning into the soft cushions as if he intended to take a nap.  “You ought to be able to figure them out.” he said.  “You can’t do anything that violates the laws of continuity.”  A shy grin danced over his lips and hid itself again.  “Invisible people cannot open doors unless there is no witness present.  Witnesses are permitted the luxury of an alternative explanation to actions committed by person or persons unknown.”  Before she could protest, he followed up his remarks with a complaint of his own.  “If you think you’re in this thing alone, you can think again.  I couldn’t have opened that door either.  We’re a powerful service, but we’re not omnipotent.”
            “Bullshit!”  Jessie exploded, throwing her anger into his face.  “What about the things that I saw you do?  You’re trying to tell me that you weren’t doing anything I couldn’t do?  I’m a witness.” she thumped her chest with her fist.  “And I saw you do things that simply cannot be done.  What about that?”
            “You were prepared to believe what you saw.” he told her.  “You cannot under any stretch of the imagination be considered an innocent bystander.  Natural laws take precedence unless all parties concerned have agreed to suspend dependence upon them.  All parties.  Remember.  So you can’t just walk up to someone on the street and perform miracles of prestidigitation, with invisible hands, or whatever other mischief you intend to involve yourself in, because there are some laws that will be obeyed, whether you like it or not.” he threw his head back against the sofa’s soft padding.
            “Get out.”  Jessie snarled, stalking off into the bedroom.  She swung around before she had taken three steps, intending to hit him with a stinging remark, but he was gone.   She stood in the doorway, glaring at the warm dent in the sofa where he had been sitting, pulling on the fingers of one hand with the other, resisting the urge to summon him back just so she could scream in his face.
            “I suppose I can still take a bath.” she muttered.  “Be a shame if the plumbing had to agree to it.”  Putting it behind her, she went into the bathroom and shut the door on his distressing remarks, drawing a satisfying tub of hot water between herself and her aggravations.  She soaked in sandalwood bath oil, luxuriating in the sweetly scented steam and allowed herself time to extinguish all doubts.
            She emerged from the tub after nearly two hours of indulgence, her hair and body clean and exuding the sweet smells of sandalwood and vanilla.  Outside, the first signs of waning daylight filtered through the elm.  Jessie dressed herself and carried her belongings to the door, stacking them against it until she was ready to go.  Looking around the apartment for the last time, the thought crossed her mind that she needed to give some explanation for her sudden, permanent absence.  She felt the need to lay a false trail, some clue to satisfy the curious.  The blood stained carpet in the bedroom provided the best suggestion.  Picking up a heavy flower vase, she slung it overhand at a mirror, smashing it into slivers.  She pulled the covers off of the bed, tossing them in a heap that entangled itself with the bedpost, then she dumped the contents of the wardrobe and the dresser drawers onto the floor, ripping the delicate fabric of her silk panties.  In the living room, she flung books out of the case, littering the floor with the contents of the shelves.  At the desk, she wantonly scattered bills and papers on the floor around her, pausing at the little drawer where she kept banking receipts.  It hadn’t occurred to her that if she disappeared she would not be able to write checks.  The funds in her checking and savings accounts were completely beyond her reach.  She retrieved her purse from the packed bags by the door and  placed it on the desk.  There was nothing in it she needed or could use.  She consoled herself with the thought that in her present condition, she could easily take anything she needed.
            Surveying the damage, she decided that the mess was sufficient for her purposes. Her former belongings lay scattered about on the floor.  Shards of broken glass and upended drawers highlighted the scene.  She carried her bags down the stairs and put them in the car.  She tossed her pistol into the glove box and forgot about it.  Behind her, she had turned off all the lights, but the front door stood slightly open.  Jessie assumed that if she was not soon missed at work, that one of her neighbors would notice that door and investigate.  She turned her back on it and got into the car, slamming the door with the full intent of finality.  She turned the key in the ignition, but nothing happened.  There was no sound, no initial click, nothing at all.  She tried it again, with the same result.  The car refused to respond to her prodding.  “Did you do something to my car?” she inquired of thin air, drumming her fingers against the unresponsive metal.
            “Natural laws.”  Said the voice from the back seat.  “What gave you the misplaced idea that you could drive a car?”
            “Probably has something to do with the idea that I’ve had a driving license since I was seventeen.” she told him. Her teeth threatened to grind themselves into worthless slabs.
            “A license issued by an authority that has no jurisdiction here.” he reminded her.  “You could drive yesterday.  This is true.  But today is a whole new business.”
            Jessie swung around to look him in the eye before she spoke.  “How am I supposed to get across town to Martin’s house?” she asked.
            “You could walk.” he suggested.  “You have a fine, healthy pair of legs.  Why not use them?”
            Tears streaked unbidden down Jessie’s face.  “Oh, that’s truly nasty.” she complained.  “It would take days to walk that far.  Martin not only lives clear across town from here, he lives at least a mile beyond the bus lines.” she slammed her palm hard against the seat upholstery.  “Why can’t I drive?” she demanded, angrily.  “Why not?”
            “If you were standing on the street corner waiting to cross, and a car whizzed by you with nobody behind the wheel, what would you do?” he asked, appealing to reason.  “Did you forget the rule about innocent bystanders?  You didn’t buy the right to drive anybody crazy except Martin Swann.  You want to terrorize him, be my guest, but random citizens in the street are not your province.  Sorry.”
            Jessie turned the problem over in her mind, digging for an answer to the dilemma.  “Why can’t I paint my face with foundation cream and dress in heavy clothing.  Just this once and I won’t ask for it again.” she promised, hoping for the best.
            “This is not a movie.” he reminded her sharply.  The corners of his mouth pulled down severely, outlining his disappointment with Jessie’s inability to cope with her situation.  “I warned you there would be side effects, but you didn’t want to hear about it.  Now you have to listen.  That’s too bad.  Besides, you were wearing a skirt and blouse when the boy from the delivery service looked right through you.  Didn’t that occur to you?  Did you think you’d be forced to go through life naked?” he shook his head as if disgusted with her lack of trust.  “That would be cruel.” he said, mocking her attempts to subdue her anger.  “I would never do that to you  Besides, its one of the beneficial side effects of the rules.  We can’t have people gawking at floating suits of clothing traipsing around in the streets.  Other people’s sanity is not among the things you have any power over and for that you should be glad.  If such gaudy disruptions of the rules were allowed, you’d have to go about naked for the rest of your life and you wouldn’t be able to carry anything with you if you decided to change your living quarters.  Count your blessings and quit bitching so much.” he patted her on the cheek and received a sour frown for his troubles.  “For the record, in case this little problem rears its ugly head again, there are two major components to the rules.” he dove into the business of enlightening her and attempted to make her position clear.  “The first rule, that I’ve already explained to you, is that any object whose integrity is dependent upon your support will remain invisible from the perspective of onlookers. Secondly, any object that exists in an ongoing process, independent of you cannot be interfered with by you in such a way as to arouse the attention of innocent bystanders.  In other words, your clothing, any object you are carrying in your hand or dragging along with you will not be allowed to confuse the realistic perceptions slash expectations, of others, with the possible exception of Martin Swann, considering that as a person approaches insanity, reality ceases to maintain its former pristine definitions.”
            “So if I beat the bush until I find someone who is stark raving loony, not too hard in this town, then that person can see me and I can get him or her to drive me somewhere.  Right?”
            “Possibly.” he admitted.  “Depends on whether or not they think you are real or whether they think they’re seeing things again and are temporarily willing to entertain apparitions just for the entertainment value.  They could turn you off if they so willed, unless you want to pick a victim and pay me for him.  The side effects of that are tremendous.”  Jessie waited patiently to hear what they would be, certain that if she waited, he would gladly answer.  She was not disappointed, at least in this one aspect of their relationship.  “If you buy someone whose mind is not sound, then he will tend to follow you around, spying on every move you make and, since you own him and are therefore responsible for him, you can’t really discard him as easily as you would wish.”
            “Why not?”  Jessie puzzled over the contradictions, convinced that she could bend them to her will if she examined them closely enough.
            “Because he’s insane.  Not responsible.  He would obey you in all but that.  You couldn’t shake him off without killing him and that would get you in really deep.  The penalty for killing invalids is serious.  The Big Man owns those people and you don’t want to piss him off like that.”
            “But if I buy him, then he’s mine.”  Jessie argued.  “What’s the point of buying somebody if he’s not your’s?”
            “By the time you manage to drive Martin mad, he’ll glady chauffeur you around, if you want to go anywhere by then, but you can’t buy somebody that’s already owned.  If you buy somebody directly from Mr. Big, you’re just renting him and you have to show some respect.  You can’t do anything to damage His special charges unless you want to have your actions come up for review.  Trust me on this, you really don’t want that to happen.”
            “Just who are you talking about?” she demanded. “Satan? Beelzebub?  Lucifer?  Whatever his name is today?”
            He lowered his eyelids, regarding her thoughtfully. “The Lord of Light has no need of ownership.” he informed her, a trifle haughtily she thought.  He coughed.  “Look, it makes my throat hurt to talk about Him.” he grumbled.  “Can we get back to the part of the book that applies to you and keep your inquires out of other people’s affairs?”
            “Alright.”  Jessie considered pushing him, but thought better of it.  She didn’t really care anyway.  “What about part two?  Is that like the trick with the doorknob?”
            “Yes, but there’s more to it than that.” he answered.  “You can’t do anything that compromises an event in progress if that interference would result in an unexplainable anomaly.”
            “Such as...” she prompted, determined to get to the bottom of her troubles and sort it out.
            “For example, if you happened upon a couple of little boys throwing a frisbee to one another, you would find yourself incapable of grabbing the toy out of the air.  According to the reasonable perceptions of the two children, the frisbee should and indeed must proceed from one side to the other with predictable regularity.  If you could make your actions look like a freak gust of wind, you could bat at it and change its direction, but you could not pick it up or make off with it unless it fell of its own accord in a place where it could legitimately disappear.”
            “Sounds like I’m something of a slave to a set of arbitrary rules.”  Jessie pouted openly.  “Great.” she said.  “Thanks for telling me.”
            He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, tickling her with the sharp end of his tongue.  “You were before too.” he reminded her.  “And you didn’t want to play by those rules either.  The difference is, you can come here from there, but the reverse is not an option.  There, you could break some of the rules, so long as you show respect.  Now, the rules cannot be broken.  You will live by them and that is all there is.” he rested his arms on the car seat, draping his hands over her shoulders.  “There are many things you can do now that you could but imagine before.  Driving a car and snatching frisbees out of mid air are not among them.  Too bad.  Stop whining.  That’s not what you intended with your new powers anyway.  Go play, little girl and don’t forget to call me if you need something.”
            “If I have to walk, you can begin by picking up that bag beside you and carrying it.” she told him, throwing open the car door and stepping out into the shadowy darkness of the garage.  She took a few short steps to the side door and threw her keys into the yard.
            “I am not a pack animal.” he protested, getting out of the car and leaving her things behind.  “I am here to provide support and information, not to schlep your stuff across town.  You want it, you carry it.” he strode into the darkest corner and vanished.