Authors: Massimo Russo
“Honey, you don’t have to worry about a thing. I’ve arranged everything. Our life will be better from now on. All we have to do is stay together and it’ll soon be over. Our home is waiting for us, and a life that is a different, brighter color than we’ve ever seen.”
“What are you saying? What have they done to you?”
“They’ve freed me. And now I’ll do the same for you.”
Chapter 25
Norman was more confused than ever by the time he reached the inner city limits. In one hand he clutched the case with the money that could buy him his dreams, and in the other the book containing his memories and past life. He didn’t know what his future might hold, but the man with the ambiguous look had been convincing enough to disrupt all his thoughts. He couldn’t stop thinking about the son he had just met and how fate already wanted to take him away again. He was tempted to ring his father and curse him for keeping the truth from him, but fear of the truth stopped him. His way of reasoning often had him playing in defense before attacking. So, he made up his mind to find O’Neal and talk to him before deciding his and, more important, his son’s fate. He would threaten to kill him only after his father had confirmed what Luc had told him. He wouldn’t dwell on it now, but he knew he would probably be quite capable of killing, just like his mother: taking a life to allow another to live. He immediately felt ashamed of himself. He could scarcely believe that he had compared his mother’s act with his own homicidal intentions. He was nothing like his mother. The only thing they had in common was the desire to help their sons. Unlike her though, he was an out and out coward and rich, two good reasons for finding a solution that could save everyone, including himself. His worst side and his inability to take responsibility for his own actions still had him sitting on the fence. He was sure he would find a way of killing without being caught, and then flee as he always did.
But it was complicated and the problems were numerous. Finding O’Neal and talking to him would be relatively easy, but murdering him was a completely different kettle of fish. He would have to become invisible, and make sure he had a cast-iron alibi.
The book he was holding reminded him that being a killer in real life was nothing like seeing it in movies. His past as a dreamer clashed with these new thoughts of murder. In his mind’s eye, he pictured a dual scenario: one showed his lust for vengeance, the other, love. How could he save his son with love without killing for revenge?
He decided to ask O’Neal the answer to that, looking him in the eye as he watched him suffer. He took out his phone and punched in the number for directory enquiries. The operator replied on the second ring.
“Good morning, I’m Martin, how can I help you?”
“I’d like the address for this phone number, please.”
“That’ll be three dollars, sir, charged in advance on your phone bill. Is this acceptable?”
“All right.”
“What’s the number?”
“555 221 229.”
“Please hold the line. The information will be available within twenty seconds. Thank you for calling, sir, and have a good day.”
He received the address exactly twenty seconds later. It was in the city center, just over a mile from where he was. With a bit of luck, it would take him thirty minutes at most to reach the most powerful man on earth, have a formal chat with him and then tell him he had to die. Then he would finally speak to his fate, the one that had been waiting for him for so long; it would doubtless be propping up some bar counter, dressed in white silk, ready to offer him the chance to choose between red or white wine. Norman would sit beside it, look it directly in the eye and, with the recklessness of one who has forgotten fear, inform it that he was much too alive to start drinking.
Chapter 26
“Honey, don’t worry your head. I’ve arranged everything. These people will help us. They’ll free us from all the hurt we’ve suffered. Our son is the price we have to pay, but how often have we wished he could be freed from the disability that’s plagued him from birth? There’s no other way of doing it, and no other choice to make. Trust me, from tomorrow our world will finally change for the better.”
Paul gazed at his wife like a frightened animal about to become a tasty morsel for some famished monster. He could hardly believe the words pouring from her mouth. He managed to utter a few sounds, and then felt his senses buckle as the shock hit him. His vision was dimmed by the fog that shrouded his brain and the effect of the sedatives and narcotics the white-coated woman had injected in his arm in the meantime. Then he collapsed and heard his wife humming a lullaby whose words he could barely remember as she helped to lower him to the floor.
“Congratulations, Celine. Not everyone would have the courage to do what had to be done. People are always afraid of the consequences of their actions.”
“People haven’t had to cope with what I’ve had to put up with my whole life. Watching your son grow up knowing he’ll never understand the difference between a color and a sound is the most dreadful torment you can imagine. Fate must be punished for all the harm it’s done to my family.”
Her words ricocheted off the walls, full of the anger she had repressed for so many years. She would have cursed fate to its face if she could have for its cruelty and indifference to all her prayers.
The day she made up her mind to declare war had been a day like any other: the sun had hung out its usual face, too weak to warm her heart. She had slipped out of the house early to buy food for lunch and dinner at the local supermarket. She had walked through the garden and stopped to admire the colors of the trees, the only thing that
comforted her and stopped her going crazy. She had paused when she saw a man sitting on a bench a short distance away; there was nothing special about him, but the way he was looking at her had made her feel important again. She had stopped using her eyes a long time ago in order to avoid feeling uncomfortable, and she had averted her gaze then too, though a tremor had warmed her heart as she set off again along the sidewalk.
“Good morning, Celine.”
She had whirled round toward him.
“I’m sorry? Do I know you?”
“Forgive my bad manners. My name’s Luc. You were waiting for me.”
“I beg your pardon? You’re sitting on a bench opposite my house and I’m the one who’s waiting for you?”
“Waiting takes on different forms. It all depends on your point of view.”
“I think you’ve got the wrong person. I’m rather busy, so if you don’t mind...”
“To tell you the truth, yes, I do mind. And anyway, I don’t think you want to wait much longer. Fate has already taken a significant chunk of your life.”
She had been on the point of walking on, but stopped short, as if she had been struck in the tenderest corner of her soul.
“What do you know of fate?”
“Oh, my dear lady. I know fate better than you might think.”
“Well then, take it a message from me.”
“Your threats are useless. It’ll listen to you, but it won’t feel a thing. It knows no fear, no hatred. There’s only one way to beat it.”
“And what’s that?”
“To have the courage to do what must be done.”
“And if I didn’t succeed?”
“Of course you’ll succeed! Your heart is ready. Your heart is pure. You needn’t be afraid, your love for your son will guide you.”
“My son... he’s so fragile...”
“You have the power to free him from all evil, to purify his mind so that he can recover from a life he didn’t choose to have.”
“But I can’t...”
“Yes, you can. You’ll look into his eyes. Those vacant eyes that are so gentle you could drown in their depths, but so full of hope and need. And in those eyes you’ll find the courage to see it through to the end.”
The longing for a shoulder to cry on was so great that she had rushed into his arms, clinging to him like a bewildered child to a father. At that precise moment, as tears rolled down her cheeks reminding her that pain had become an intrinsic part of her being, she had understood that sacrifice was the only way to free herself, Paul and their beloved son from the prison they were trapped in. Luc had given her the consolation she needed to carry out the deed. Then he had told her who to contact to change the fate of her family once and for all.
The voice of that same man was now calling her back from her reverie.
“Celine, are you all right?”
Tommy was looking at her with the respect due a boss. He read in her eyes the determination of a soldier who is ready to face hell in order to follow orders.
“Are you ready, Celine?”
“Yes, I’m ready.”
They walked out of the room. The guards were still stationed in the corridor, ensuring that something secret and very precious was kept safe and sound. Celine opened the door at the end and went inside. Her son didn’t notice her; nothing had changed for him except the problem he was solving in the book on the table. She kissed his forehead and hugged him as she whispered in his ear words he would never understand.
“Hello, Will. It’s time to talk to God again.”
Chapter 27
She liked stirring up life more than sitting watching events occur. In her opinion there was no great distinction between human beings and the gods, but Daisy loved her game so much that she had forgotten loyalty. She liked Norman’s story for what it represented: the search for happiness in exchange for love. The ridiculous terminology amused her even more, because the end-result was hidden behind absolute uncertainty. Neither Dustin nor Luc would have known who to back as the winner. The only thing they all knew for certain was that, this time, the stakes were sky-high, higher than they had ever been in the history of man. The souls to be saved, or burned, depending on the perceptions of the players, came to ninety percent of the total. And that wasn’t all. Future generations would hear the story of a man capable of killing all, or almost all, of his fellow creatures for the sake of power. Hitler would merely be a bar tale by comparison; for centuries to come, darkness would engulf the world as they knew it, a world where freedom of choice still existed.
She watched Alex drinking alone in the bar where he spent most of his time. She had studied him for a while and concluded that the time had come to deal with him too. She had seen him follow Jonathan and his grandson and sit on a bench while his brain took refuge in a world of its own that was light years from the real one. She was convinced that he would do something foolish, but fate evidently knew how to move its pawns to advantage. She walked over to him, armed with the charm that so became her and changed a man’s mood in the blink of an eye. Alex peered at her for a second and then looked away and feigned interest in the conversation of a group of people sitting nearby.
“Hello, Alex.”
His eyes flicked back to her, curious about meeting a woman he had never seen before.
“May I sit here with you?”
She took his silence as assent, sat down opposite him and asked the bartender for the same drink Alex had ordered.
“You like being here all alone, don’t you?”
“Who are you?”
“My name’s Daisy. I was watching you and wondered if you fancied a bit of company. As it happens, I’m on my own as well.”
Alex tore his gaze away from the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, fearing a reaction that would discomfit him.
“I don’t usually mind, but today I don’t want to be alone. I’ve just had a row with my father and what that bastard said floored me completely.”
“Your father? What did he do to you?”
“Nothing today, yet, but only because he was too drunk to catch me. I managed to get out while he was weaving around in the kitchen. He off-loaded enough insults to last me for a good while.”
Alex searched her face for the kind of complicity he had never found in anyone before.
“My father’s dead. He wasn’t worth much either.”
“Was he violent?”
“He didn’t like me at all. He detested me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m different.”
“Only your tastes are different, not you. I know your secret, and I’m here to help you fulfill your desires and get rid of everything you carry inside you that makes you feel so bad.”
“Nobody can help me.”
“You’re wrong. You just have to open your heart and let it go wherever it wants.”
“I haven’t got a heart. I don’t feel anything.”
“Yes, you do. I can see your pain; it’s been locked in a room in your soul for far too long, waiting for the right moment to come out and be free at last. You can’t hide your true nature. You have to follow your instincts. Now!”
Alex felt a thrill in his stomach at her words and he looked up to see whether she meant what she said, but Daisy had vanished into thin air.
A blood-colored wall loomed in front of him, giving him a cold, empty feeling that chilled the warmth of the conversation. It happened every so often. He would find himself chatting to imaginary people his mind conjured up to make him feel less lonely. Daisy, however, had seemed more real than anyone he had ever met, and no one had spoken to him with so much feeling before. He thought that sooner or later everyone had to come to terms with his or her conscience and instincts. He had tried, but had ended up feeling more alone than ever, until now, as the desire to start living and conquer his fears and weaknesses took hold of his will. He would finally show the whole world that his nature was special and couldn’t live in the shadows for ever. He scanned the people around him, looking for someone he could trust with his secrets now they were free to be acknowledged without being masked or vetoed. He concluded that it wasn’t his choice to make, but belonged to a higher being, as had happened when his father died. He would let fate take on the task of showing him the person he should share his personal truth with.
A familiar voice sounded in his brain. His eyes sought confirmation from his instinct, and his heart gladly accepted his enthusiasm. He watched the door until he saw the person he was expecting walk in.