Purple Passion

The midi dress was a dark plum shade with three quarter length sleeves. No designer brand name, only a small tag attached to the inside collar. The tag showed an image of an orange phoenix flying against a blue sky. Elise Brock fingered the cleavage revealing lace up bodice as the man with the bronzed face held the dress up for her to see. Best of all, the dress even had pockets.

“Not exactly how I envisioned saying yes to the dress,” Elise said, with a sigh. She’d spent all Friday afternoon at the downtown market without buying anything.

Elise was twenty-four, the man trying to sell her the dress was probably at least thirty-five years older. He had a high forehead, thinning gray hair and tired hazel eyes, in a white long-sleeved dress shirt and khakis. His outdoors stall, with a red canopy and cherry wood table, had on display brightly colored silk scarves, soft knitted blankets in muted shades, and silver filigree trinket boxes. But only one dress.

The stall owner leaned towards her, lowering his voice. “This dress will bring you good luck.”

She was single and had enough money for extras, so why not buy herself something special? The dress was actually cheaper than she expected. She paid cash for it without haggling. After she bought it and thanked him, Elise walked off quickly. When she thought she heard her name called behind her and turned around, she didn’t see the stall anymore. The seller must have taken it down already. She supposed that if a person put a stall up every workday, they learned to disassemble it in a hurry.

Elise went home, ran up the flight of stairs to her small apartment, and peeled off her teal sweater and faded jeans, yanking off her socks and kicking off her white tennis shoes . She hadn’t dressed formally for years, but still had stockings and heels appropriate for the outfit. Elise found a pair of silver earrings she’d inherited from her grandmother. After changing, she stood in front of the bedroom dresser mirror and gazed at herself, making various dramatic and comical facial expressions, twirling around, and tossing her head. She was slender but still curvy enough that the dress clung in all the right places.

All dressed up and no place to go.

She must have laced up the bodice more tightly than she intended, because she suddenly felt faint and dizzy. As her body hit the bathroom floor, which luckily was carpeted and not tile, her last thought was, “Oh, no, I’m going to crumple this dress.”

She felt a light touch on her dark blonde hair. She heard a man’s voice say, “I’ve never seen you wear anything like that before, Ellie.”

Ellie? No one called her Ellie. She opened her eyes and looked down at herself. Still in her dark purple gown. “Do I look that much different?”

“You look prettier than ever.” It was a dark, quiet restaurant with brown leather booths, tables with snowy white tablecloths, and hardwood floors. The man in the gray suit who was sitting across from her looked very Irish, with bright red hair in a short wolf cut, green eyes, fair skin, and freckles. He said, “I’m going to get the corned beef. With carrots and potatoes, no cabbage. I’m craving some of that famous Chicago corned beef. It’s almost St. Patrick’s Day.”

Elise started to say something and stopped herself. She lived close to Atlanta, Georgia and it was the first of November.

She’d never seen this man before in her life.

She decided to stay calm and keep quiet until she could figure out what was going on. She said softly, “Thanks, but I’m not very hungry.”

‘At least have a corned beef sandwich, “he insisted, frowning at her in concern until she nodded.

 The waiter, a bald man in his sixties, came over and greeted him. “Hi, Jake!”

“Hey, Luke. This is my girlfriend Ellie.”

The waiter grinned at her and took their orders.

Jake leaned towards her. Just like the man who had sold her the dress. Elise hoped Jake was not going to say the dress would bring her good luck. She wasn’t sure about the good luck yet. “Dressed like that, you look like a lusty serving wench in an English pub.” He winked.

Elise took a long drink of water. She’d always been curious about what it would be like to date a redhead.

The next morning she woke up in her own bed, in just her turquoise bra and panties. She wondered if it was all a dream, but when she got up and looked in her dresser mirror, she saw a pink bite mark Jake had left on her throat.

The purple dress was on a hanger on her coat hook next to the door.

“It’s one way to get a night out with a man,” Elise told herself.

It didn’t make any sense. Wearing this gown caused her to become someone else? Possessing their bodies? Taking over their lives?

It was confusing, exhilarating, and terrifying, all at the same time. Elise hated to admit it, but she knew she couldn’t wait. She had to find out if it would happen again.

She ate toast and scrambled eggs. She showered and put on makeup. Trembling with excitement, she pulled on the dress, pairing it this time with black tights and black flats.

Nothing happened.

What a letdown. Maybe she’d had some wild hallucination and done something to herself to create a mark on her neck. She stretched out on the love seat in her living room, her jaw clenched so tightly from tension that she hurt. Eventually she slumped down and her head fell back.

“Elisa, wake up, it’s Marcus. Let’s not waste Beltane!”

Her eyes fluttered open. A man with thick blond hair, glasses, and a cherubic round face was beaming down at her. “Happy May Day. I hate to wake you up, but I wanted to celebrate Beltane.”

She sat up, noting that she was on a bed in a small mobile home, still garbed in her purple dress. The man standing next to the bed was wearing all black with a black cloak. “I went out this morning  and took a walk while you were napping,” Marcus said cheerfully. “You were right, Elisa, it was better to rent this trailer instead of camping in a tent.”

Whoever Elisa was, Elise said a silent thank you to her for choosing the trailer.

“You look like a pagan goddess.”

First a lusty wench and now a pagan goddess. Marcus took her hand, raising her to her feet, then kissed her deeply. Apparently his pagan goddess was also a lusty wench.

For the two of them, the ancient festival of Beltane was observed with nature worship and enjoyed with simple pleasures. They planted dwarf peach and apple trees in pots for the tiny backyard back home that Marcus spoke of with pride. They made flower crowns, laughing at how silly they looked with them. They baked oatmeal and raisin cookies and ate them fresh from the oven, with lemonade they made while the cookies were baking. They did an outdoor meditation just before sunset.

They “celebrated” Beltane four times. Elise dropped off to sleep, exhausted, with a final thought that she was glad she used birth control.

Elise woke up the next morning, back in her own bed at home, wearing a midnight blue silk nightgown. “I’m sorry, Elisa,” she said aloud. “I’m still wearing your clothes.”

She sat up and leaned back against the headboard. Glancing over through the open bedroom door, she saw her dress draped over the love seat.

Was it wrong to allow herself to be seduced by men she didn’t know, who thought she was someone else? Jake and Marcus had both been very kind and caring, but what if she ended up with some creep?

She had no one to take into her confidence. Any family member or friend she told would never believe her. Or they might nod and smile and then call her doctor with worries about her mental health.

Suddenly she remembered her parents were away for the weekend and they had a fire pit in their back yard. Elise had mixed feelings as she set fire to the dress. She turned her back to the fire and walked away. Some noise—she wasn’t sure what—made her turn around.

The purple dress was completely incinerated already. Nothing but ashes.

Elise thought of how many people hated their lives. Of how many people forced themselves to get up and move through the world, depressed and miserable. Of how many people just gave up. At least, she’d had a chance to spend some time in Jake’s beautiful lakefront apartment, holding hands and drinking champagne. She’d taken a lovely walk through the woods with Marcus, then cuddled in his arms while listening to Enya. She didn’t feel any regret for sampling other lives more thrilling than her own, for finding love even if it was only temporarily hers.

She stared down into the pile of ashes, wondering if she’d made a mistake in burning the dress. Then she saw something in the ashes.

Later that day….

“Lisa, is that new? Is it an amethyst?” Gentle laughter. “Love, I can afford to buy you whatever you want. Don’t worry, I’m not threatened by a woman who goes out and buys her own jewelry.”

Elise Brock smiled up at the tall, dark, handsome man, privately deciding that being with successful artist Kellen Woodford in New Mexico was another thrilling life to try. Kellen took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips before looking more closely at the silver ring with the purple stone.

“I love it,” she said. “I may never take it off. Purple has always been my favorite color.”