Forgotten (32 page)

How does
someone survive something like this?
I have been there,
he had
whispered at our first meeting. But not in my wildest imagination
could I have expected anything quite like this.

There were
no words, nothing I could say to lessen the magnitude of what this
man had borne. In a thousand lifetimes, I could never comprehend
the degree of anger, the hurt that he must have suffered. I
understood what it was to lose, but to lose your wife, your
children and I was only guessing, other family members, was
incomprehensible. I didn’t need explanations; I didn’t need any
further information from him.

I knew enough.

Hidden here
in this underground tomb, lay the true essenc
e of the enigma of Saul Reardon. The true reason for his
existence, his obsessive drive, his undying energy, his legitimate
compulsion to help those in need, his real motivation.

And although
many gaps, many unanswered questions still prowled amongst those
four walls, they were his gaps to fill, his questions to answer,
and his alone.

One that, someday, I may be honored to
hear.

I returned to him and pulled his head down
onto my shoulder. I wept silently for his beautiful family, for
him, occasionally allowing one or two tears to fall. He wrapped his
arm around my waist and held me tight.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“It was a long time ago.”

The
meticulous mini shrine spoke volumes. It may have been a long time
ago, but much remained. “Thank you,” I added.

“For what?” He had loosened his hold by then
and I noticed his eyes slowly returning to their natural state.

“
For
allowing me in.” And however much I desired to, I didn’t kiss him.
Not there in that sacred place of lives past, that place of
deep-rooted memories. Instead, it was a site to be respected,
safeguarded, treasured. Some parts of one’s life, some parts of
one’s most inner core, should always remain sanctioned.

There was time for us later
.

As if shoving those memories to the back of
the room and his mind, Saul returned to his laptop, to the screens
above, to the entire unknown, which, like a perpetual shroud of
uncertainty, still lay before us.

1989

“
I HAVE A
present for
you, Carino.”

The little girl searched her father’s eyes
only to find the same disturbing look that had been part of him for
the past several months.

She didn’t like it. She didn’t like the man who had once
been her beloved Papa. He had changed.

“
What present?” She lacked the usual enthusiasm that came
with any suggestion of a gift. The only pre
sent she really wanted was her old Papa
back.

He was seated
in a
cross-legged position on the freshly clipped grass to the rear of
Alice’s cottage. Ahead the ripples of the wide, meandering river
clipped the shore’s stony edge. “A very special one,” he replied,
in a voice that mirrored his new self. He then drew out a small,
carved box.

The little girl, also cro
ss-legged, frowned. “What is it, Papa?”

“
Open it and you will see.”

Spurred on by her father’s marked
impatience, she took the box and tried to pry the lid open. But her
fingers were too small and her strength inadequate. The father,
clearly irritated, seized the box. In a few short moments, he
loosened the stiff restraints, keeping the lid down and then
returned it to his watchful daughter. “Now try,” he grumbled.

The girl began to pull at the lid,
increasingly wary of its contents. The wooden lid lifted. She then
stared at the object cushioned amongst the blood-red velvet
lining.

It was a gun.

So shiny, she could almost make out her
startled face in it.

She gasped. She knew what guns were, what they could do.
What she didn’t know was why her Papa would give
her
one. She raised her confused eyes to him. That look, that
not very nice Papa look, had become even more vivid, more severe.
She trembled.

“
Take it out, Carino. Hold it, then tell
me what you feel.”

The girl obliged, carefully removing it. She
was amazed at how heavy it was. It needed both of her hands to hold
it. “It feels heavy, Papa.”

“
And what else?”

What else was there? What else was she to feel? Except
frightened of it. But she didn’t think her Papa would like that
answer. The girl forced a cheerful smile and an equally cheerful
response. “It feels wonderful.” She hoped that her answer would
please him.

It didn’t.

“
Do you not feel its strength, its
might?” He ran his large hand over the weapon as if patting a
much-loved pet. “Its… beauty?”

“
Yes, Papa,” she lied
.
“I can.” She placed the weighty object in her lap and began to
stroke it also, just as her Papa had done. She didn’t want to upset
him any further.

Her father sighed, delighted by her more
sanguine reaction and then drew her close to him. The alluring
comfort of his strong arm and the vague familiar smells of pine
trees reminded her of her old Papa, the one she loved, the one she
wished a thousand times a day would return.

So he could love her back.

Like he used to.

“
Your Papa is sick, little one,” she
remembered a sad Alice explaining to her.

“
Will he ever get better?” she had
asked.

“
He will. He just needs more time; the
doctors need more time.”

How the girl wanted to believe Alice, so very, very
much.

“
In the meantime, keep him happy, do what
he wants and before you know it he will be better.”

And so she did.

As she was doing now.
If lying about the gun would make her loving Papa come
back, then she would gladly oblige.

“
I will teach you how to use it, Carino,”
he said with more seriousness.

The little girl, clearly mystified, asked
why.

Her father squeezed her even closer. “For
the power, of course, my darling, for the absolute power.”

December 27, 2010

8:15 pm

I DROVE
TO
Annie’s house.

Surprisingly, there was no argument from
Saul. I suspected he was in considerable pain by the concentrated
way he gripped his injured arm. Once we left the gravelly road and
onto the less bumpy highway, he had noticeably relaxed. I had no
knowledge of who Annie was, but Saul assured me she would know what
to do.

During the trip, Saul asked what I needed to
talk to him about. I noticed his growing pallor, the darkening
circles beneath his eyes. “Let’s get you mended, first.” Again,
there was no argument.

Annie lived in a picturesque fishing village
about a half hour north of Nankari called Karalee. I knew of it.
Its population was small and like its residents, the dwellings were
a blend of old with the new.

As soon as I
pulled up at Annie’s house, I saw it to be one of the old, situated
directly on the water. Judging by first impressions, its
renovations maintained some of its original old world charm. A
graceful woman with wheaten hair and slate grey eyes met us.
Introductions aside, she led us indoors and into one of the guest
bedrooms.

Saul sat on
the edge of the bed and removed his bloodstained shirt. He then
slumped against the many pillows. I couldn’t help but take in
Saul’s broad shoulders, his taut chest. But any wanton thoughts I
had, quickly dissolved when Annie released the bandage. Both the
swelling and the bruising had worsened. I briefly explained to
Annie what had happened, including the mammoth’s vicious
beating.

Annie wasted no time. With the crucial
equipment laid out beside her, she set to work. She first injected
a strong painkiller into him. One that would coincide with Saul’s
natural exhaustion and induce him to sleep.

Saul settled further into the pillows, but
not before brushing his crooked finger beneath my chin. “See you in
a little while.” I found it hard to hide my anxiety. “And stop
worrying. I’m in good hands.” In less than a minute, he drifted
off.

Annie worked silently, carefully, unhurried.
I sensed a familiarity to her touch with him, or maybe I imagined
it. “Do you need me to do anything?” I was crouched beside Saul, my
hands wrapped around his.

Annie stared
as if just noticing me for the first time. She then glanced at my
hands. Her expression was straight, unreadable. “For now, just do
what you’re doing.”

Her voice made me picture silky gossamer
floating amongst a soft, leisurely breeze. But then everything
about Annie exuded this natural, welcoming quietude. As did her
home with its soft, rustic furnishings, its calming, lavender
scents, and the tranquil sound of the ocean waves nipping the
shorelines.

Once Annie
had the wound cleansed, stitched and dressed, she administered an
antibiotic shot. “Is he going to be okay?” I asked, watching the
restful rhythm of Saul’s steady breathing.

“
It’s just a
graze,” Annie said. “Only needed a few stitches
; he’ll be fine. Besides, it takes a lot more than that to
get this man down. He just needs to rest for a bit.” Annie returned
to the paraphernalia beside her. “Help me clean this mess. And then
it’s time for
you
to have some care.”

Me? I didn’t need caring, but I helped clean
all the same.

Afterwards, Annie steered me into the
bathroom. It had an old style basin, an equally old style bath
regally perched on curled feet, and profuse, green ferns tumbling
from ceramic pots.

Annie ran
the bath water and then sparked life into the nearby candles. She
poured a few drops from a brownish capsule into the water. It
immediately set off a bubble frenzy and a very enticing vanilla
scent. “Rest,” she said. “You’ll feel so much better for
it.”

How could I resist? I was aching with
weariness.

“Did you bring anything to change into?”

Once Ethan had given the all clear, Saul and
I left with some urgency. All I had was my green beaded bag.

“We look to be a similar size even though
you’re much taller,” she said, once I explained that to her. “I’m
sure I can find something for you.”

Annie left. I undressed and slipped into the
sweet scented water. My battered body loosened immediately. I
closed my eyes and basked in the many, wondrous sensations. At one
stage, Annie entered and just as silently departed. And for a short
moment, I dozed off. When I awoke, the water had cooled but I felt
more refreshed than I had for some time.

With much
reluctance, I stepped from the bath, toweled myself dry and slipped
on the clothing Annie had left, a pair of brand new knickers and a
turquoise mini-dress. The dress’s fabric was soft and light. I
pulled the ties at the back and secured them. It was so pretty; I
felt pretty in it.

I tidied my hair with an available brush and
then collected my phone from my bag. A mountain of missed calls and
text messages signaled. Unbelievably, including one from Milo. I
immediately clicked on it.

It read:

So sorry for everything, Clauds. If I knew then what I know
now, I’d never had given Alice the code for Zephyr. But she wanted
to talk to you about something important. I never knew she’d be
killed because of it. I’m sorry I didn
’t meet you in your unit today. I just have to go away
for a while. Keep yourself safe, until it’s all sorted.

PS – I wasn’t the one responsible for what happened…
believe me.

I re-read the text several times.
Afterwards, I pulled out the major points.

Milo had given Alice my code.

This could
only mean that Milo
did
know Alice. But how, and for
how long?

Alice had something important to tell
me.

Was this why she decided to break her
silence? And what was this important something?

Milo alluded that this ‘something’ was why Alice was
killed.

Was he
right? And more significantly, was this why Iacovelli and Souza
were killed? Did they know also? Worse still, did Milo
know?

Have to go away for a while
.

Why? Because he feared for his safety?

I felt cold
and rubbed my arms. The thought of my own life in danger was scary
enough; now to include Milo and my Papa in that equation was damn
terrifying.

I text Milo back.

Come home. I know, whatever you’ve done,
it’s only with my best interests. We can sort this out together. I
have a good man helping me. Please, just come home. And of course,
I believe you.

I concluded with:

Luv Claudia.

I stared at
the phone for a ridiculous amount of time, as if telepathy would
force an immediate response. But of course, nothing happened. I
waited a little longer and then rang his phone. It went to message
bank as I expected. I lef
t a similar
message as the text.

It was all I
could do, that and wait.

I checked my
other messages. I disregarded the less important ones and instead
focused on Mel and Nate. I informed them that I was okay - well, as
okay as one could be in my situation. I also let Nate know that I
had heard from Milo, and that he was fine. It was in part a lie. I
knew that, but a necessary one. My family didn’t need to be saddled
with extra worry.