Awaken, Shadows of a Forgotten Past

by Marcia Maidana

  “It can’t be true. It just can’t.” I plunged back onto the chair, my face hiding between my hands, the salt of my tears burning my skin.

  “I hope someday you can forgive me for loving him to the extent of becoming a silent accomplice. Love for me has only been suffering and imprisonment. But I can’t go any farther. You are young. I can’t let you waste your life with him, at least not in ignorance.” Mrs. White hesitated for a second. “This belongs with you.” She extracted a couple of pictures from one of her dress pockets, placing them on top of the documents I had just read. My whole body was unstable; I looked at the people staring back at me from the still images.

  The first photo showed the young Alex standing next to a handsome older man with a thick mustache; both dressed in military uniforms—their names written on the bottom: General Marcus Contini and Lieutenant General Alexander Sterling. The second picture was a close shot of a lady from the waist up. Except for the long hair arranged on top of her head like a crown, she looked exactly like…me. The resemblance was undeniable. Her hands were proudly placed on top of her round tummy. She was an expectant mother—my mother.

  “Look closely at her wrist,” Mrs. White urged.

  I observed her left arm, and on her wrist rested a bracelet. I held the picture closer and forced my eyes to adjust to the flowing strokes of the successive characters of the bracelet. I compared it to the bracelet on my own wrist, and there was no doubt, it was the exact same one.

  “Yes—that’s your mother. The brave woman who died giving birth to you.”

  My gaze fixed on the photos, my hands shook uncontrollably. All the years of searching for answers, wondering who I was and resenting the fact that my parents had abandoned me had come to an end.

  Now, I understood Alex’s astonishment when he heard my name for the first time. Now, I understood why he had been so disturbed by the idea of me being an orphan and his insistence to know who my father was. I remembered his shock and curiosity when he saw the bracelet on my wrist. His determination not to share any details of his past made sense now. The secret conversations between him and Mrs. White fit perfectly into place.

  “His biggest punishment is the fact that he loves you. Believe me, he hates himself for it. At first, he wanted to know if you knew the truth and what your intentions were. He hired you to keep you close—‘A contained enemy is no enemy at all,’ he said. But perhaps Mr. Sterling couldn’t resist his old instincts of seduction, and you became a challenge to him. Whatever it was, in the end it was a dangerous game, one which would destroy him.”

  “Stop. Please stop! I don’t want to hear it anymore.” My heart wailed in pain. No wonder Alex said he was going insane—he had fallen in love with the person he wanted to kill. The person who could come back from his wicked past to haunt him and claim revenge.

  “I wanted to give you the cemetery book as well, thinking you might want to visit your parents someday, but he took it from me,” she said.

  I had forgotten about the little book that I found in the armoire. Mrs. White had been swift to take it from me before I had the chance to read the names in its pages. The more I remembered, the clearer things became, fueling my anger with hate.

  “I know there’s no forgiveness for me—but for whatever it is worth,” Mrs. White swallowed hard, “I’m truly sorry. Your father must have loved you very much to let you go like that—to save your life. I have thought about it many times since you got here. He might have found out the truth before he died. Oh, how he must’ve suffered fearing that you would be hunted and killed.” She kept speaking, my wound kept getting deeper, but I didn’t think I was capable of feeling any more pain. I was beyond that point. “And that ring on your finger belonged to his wife. She was wearing it the day she was murdered.”

  There was a small creaking noise, and the door slowly opened. Alex’s frail figure stood in the doorway. I looked into his beautiful blue eyes and wished I were dead.

  13

  ~ Awakened ~

  Alex neared the desk and saw the pictures in my hands. “What have you done?” he asked Mrs. White in a terrible tone.

  I sprung up off the chair like a wildcat ready for the kill.

  “It was time she knew the truth,” Mrs. White hissed.

  “Oh—Florence, I’m so sorry.” He sounded convincingly remorseful.

  “How could you?” I cried.

  “I told you—you wouldn’t understand—I’m sorry.” Alex’s face showed a deep sadness.

  “How could you?” I repeated, choking on the words.

  Alex stood a few feet away, yet the distance between us had become infinite. His whole frame trembled; the severity of his illness was undeniable.

  “Florence, please let me explain,” Alex begged, inching forward.

  Mrs. White stared at us, a mortified look on her face.

  Alex reached for my hand. “Don’t touch me!” I loathed myself for falling into his trap, into his persuasion, into his arms.

  “Florence, please listen, just listen,” Alex said in desperation.

  “Listen to what? More lies! Stay away from me.” I shook my head hysterically. The ring on my finger that had felt so magical to wear now burned like boiling oil around my skin. I pulled and tugged on it—I couldn’t take it off fast enough. “I don’t want to see you ever again!” I dropped the ring onto the desk, and with it went my heart. “I wish your wife would still be wearing it! I wish she wasn’t dead!”

  I fled from Oak’s Place as if the devil himself was chasing me.

  I drove away more recklessly than I had come. Tears blinding me, there were no stop signs, no intersections, no speedometer, no white lines on the road, no hopes, no dreams, no Alex, no future. I had left my happiness back at Oak’s Place, an elusive happiness, one that had never existed.

  I couldn’t go back home and face Granny. Not yet. I drove around town for what seemed forever before leaving the security of the car to wander on the endless streets. I walked and walked, aimlessly, like a soul in limbo, suspended in a transition from heaven to hell.

  “Hello there!” Jim called from across the street. A whirlwind of mixed emotions struck me hard and deep. More hot tears rolled down my cheeks. I couldn’t answer his hello. I wiped off my face and kept on walking on the narrow sidewalk. He ran after me.

  “Florence, what’s the matter? What happened to you?” He stood in front of me, concern written on his face. Here he was, my friend, whom I had judged so harshly just yesterday. In comparison with what I had just discovered about Alex, Jim was an angel. Jim had a bad temper but he never lied. He was honest and straightforward with me. My realization wasn’t comforting. On the contrary, it was painful. I had been so blind, only seeing what I had wanted to see. Alex had said that I was young and trusting…and he had taken advantage of that. I was such a fool.

  “Hi Jim,” I said, hiding the sob in my throat.

  “What happened? Why have you been crying?”

  “Nothing, I’m fine.”

  “Sure, you are. Have you seen your eyes? They are all red and puffy.”

  “I can say the same about your lip. Jim, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right, I deserved it.” Jim sighed. “Oh boy, this isn’t easy.”

  “Let’s forget the whole thing ever happened.”

  “Florence, I’ve been working like a dog and the printing press cut our salaries again. I don’t even think I can afford my bike anymore.” He smiled. “But I’m stuck, I’m powerless. All I can do is keep being a good dog. After all, I’m lucky to have a job. I want to have a better life, a future—it’s hard to be happy right now and too easy to become bitter.”

  I pressed my lips together and held his gaze. My friend was still my friend, and I understood how he felt. “I know. Our world has been turned inside out. But it can’t stay like this forever.”

  “I’ll keep telling myself that. Yeah, better days will come.”

  For our nation, perhaps. For me, I wasn’t so sure. Suddenly
all my sorrows came rushing back with renewed intensity. “It’s getting late.”

  Jim looked at his watch. “Time flies, but what are you doing here? Where are you going?” He held my hand in his.

  “I don’t know. I just need to clear my mind. I’m hurt inside, Jim.” It took all the strength I had left in my body to hold back my tears.

  “You haven’t told me why you are sad. Did something happen at the monastery, with Granny?”

  I shook my head negatively. “No, she is fine. I haven’t even seen her today, and I didn’t want her to see me like this—so disoriented.”

  “I should’ve known—it’s him. He did something to you. Didn’t he?”

  I kept my silence. I didn’t want to tell him the truth but I didn’t want to lie either.

  “What did he do? Tell me Florence, did he hurt you? Did he force you to do something wrong?” Jim’s voice filled with a loving concern. Unable to respond to him, I hid my face in my hands. Jim took it as an affirmative answer and furiously said, “I’m going to beat the trash out of him!”

  “Jim, please! It’s not what you are thinking. I’m fine.”

  “You are not fine—come on, Florence, don’t defend him!” Jim cursed everything and anything that came across his mind.

  I recommitted myself not to tell Jim the truth. I hadn’t completely processed it yet, but if Jim ever found out who Alex really was and the role he had played in my childhood, Jim would go after him. Insanely, without thinking, Jim would get to Alex. The problem was that after all the things that Alex had done in the past, I now worried that if Jim did go after him, he would get himself killed. I had to appease him. “We broke up, that’s all. He didn’t do anything to me. I broke off the engagement.”

  His countenance changed; did I see a flicker of joy in it? I was relieved.

  “Why?”

  “Too many things…”

  Jim must have read the determination in my eyes; my lips were sealed, no details would be disclosed, and he didn’t pursue his question any further. I supposed that the news of my broken engagement was enough for him by itself.

  “I still have some pocket change,” he said with a grin. “Would you like to get something to drink? Nielsen’s shop down the street is open.”

  “No, I better get home.”

  “All right. Would you like me to call a cab for you?”

  “No, I drove my car. It’s parked a few blocks away, by the barber’s shop.”

  “Let me grab my bike and I’ll walk you to it.” Jim ran back across the street and returned with his bike. It was twilight when I entered the monastery grounds. A group of sisters were chatting with some locals close to the entrance. In preparation for tonight’s fundraiser, the sisters were dressed in their red habits, a drastic change from the usual black color. They radiated so much joy that I envied them. The idea of becoming a nun was suddenly tempting. Maybe a man’s love wasn’t for me—maybe being isolated and oblivious to the real world would be a blessing.

  I dragged my feet on the path leading to the kitchen door and slipped upstairs like a shadow in the night.

  I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the barren wall in front of me. Alex had taken my family from me: my sweet mother dying to give me life, my father struggling to defend his country at the same time that he kept me safe. How hard it must’ve been for him to let me go with the nanny. Had he suspected Alex’s betrayal? Or had he died trusting him? I would never know; they were gone.

  Why had life dealt so unfairly with me? Why was I even alive? What was the point of falling in love, only to be cruelly betrayed? The questions went round and round in my mind, but I was too numb to parse out an answer.

  “Child, are you in there?” Granny’s familiar voice called from the corridor. “I saw the car out on the grounds. Mr. Sterling has been trying to reach you.” I couldn’t believe his nerves—why was he trying to find me? Hadn’t he done enough damage already? Was he worried about what I would do with the information I now had? “Child, is everything all right?”

  The words came out slow and broken. “No—but right now—I really need to be alone. Please, Granny, I just need some time. I’ll be fine.”

  I knew that I wasn’t fooling Granny, but she only said, “We’ll be at Fr. Thompson’s parish. Maybe we can talk when I get back.” Granny waited for a reply. I felt my throat swelling, but no sound came out. “I’ll see you tonight then. I love you.”

  I heard the town bus pulling up around the monastery grounds to pick up the sisters. There was a small commotion as Sister Callahan pressed everybody to hasten their march onto the bus. “Fr. Thompson is waiting for us. We mustn’t make him anxious!” Her shouting traveled up through my open window. Soon the bus engine became a remote sound.

  I ran up the stairs to the tower. I paced back and forth across the stone floor, feeling like a newly caged animal, wanting to return to the freedom that once had been mine. I was in the openness of the square tower, yet I was suffocating in sorrow.

  I leaned against the wall of the tower and tried to control myself, to appease my mind, but it wasn’t to be. I sank onto the cold floor, wrapped my arms around my knees and cried helplessly, desperately, because I loved him beyond my natural understanding.

  After a long moment, in a sudden cold breeze, a few leaves blew past me aimlessly. I felt a shocking resemblance to the leaves, tossed around in grief. I wiped the tears from my face, and at that instant, a new determination was born. I was done crying for him. Sadness and anger were taking a new shape. The dark idea of revenge formed in my mind.

  Harboring a vindictive spirit was far from who I was, yet I welcomed it as a soothing source to my distress. Somehow, I now felt lighter, able to breathe deeply without having the walls of my chest squeeze against my heart.

  The northern sky rapidly changed. Obscure clouds came into view. The darkness of night got thicker. As I descended the stairs into my room, the phone rang. It made an obnoxious clamor. I thought about ignoring it, but the party at the other end was unusually persistent, and I finally went into the common room to answer it.

  “Hello.”

  “Florence!”

  “Zaira, is that you?”

  “Yes—oh—Florence, I am so glad to find you.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “It’s not me—it’s Mr. Sterling,” her panicked voice informed me.

  “I’m sorry, Zaira, but I don’t want to know anything about him.”

  “That can’t be true.”

  “I have to go.” I refuse to have this conversation.

  “Florence, wait!”

  I couldn’t listen to her, couldn’t give in. It was too painful. “Zaira—I’m really sorry. It’s nothing against you. I just don’t care about Mr. Sterling anymore.”

  She hastened her words; fast and straight into my heart they came. “I only have a few minutes—I called to tell you that he is not going to survive the night.” Zaira waited for me to react. I couldn’t. The endless alteration of emotions had left me icy inside, yet I heard the deep, almost crying sadness in her voice. “I don’t know what happened this morning between you and Mr. Sterling, but he needs you.”

  “He doesn’t need me,” I affirmed sternly. “Mrs. White can take care of him.” Mrs. White’s words about being Alex’s lover surfaced in my mind solidifying my desire to never see him again. ‘Just to be with him one more time…to feel his hands…his lips…his passion,’ she had said.

  “For goodness’ sake, Florence! He loves you—”

  “Good night, Zaira.” I was unable to speak any longer. My eyes wanted to cry, but my strong will wouldn’t allow it. I was frozen inside, and I would stay this way.

  Tracing my steps back to my room, I couldn’t help but wonder, what if Alex really died this night? How would I deal with his death? Would I be able to ever forgive the man who caused my father’s death? Would I ever be able to love someone else?

  I lay on my bed, and as soon as my head rested on the pillow, a pr
ofound sleep took over me, transporting me to a place of oblivion where I hoped my entire nightmare would be washed away.

  A faint, distant voice called my name. I tossed and turned, and somewhere between rest and restlessness, I heard the voice again. Awareness grew stronger. I focused on the sound until it became clear.

  “Florence, wake up! Wake up!”

  “I don’t want to wake up…I don’t want to wake up,” I protested, deliriously.

  “Wake up! You have been given an opportunity to wake up!” the voice persisted, commanding and firm.

  Reluctantly, I forced my eyes open, convinced that I was being bothered by a dream. Immediately, I was aware of a soft light emerging from the corner of my room. I jolted straight up on the bed. In the light stood a beautiful young man, possessing an angelic face filled with child-like innocence. His whole person radiated an incredible amount of light. It wasn’t hard to realize that he wasn’t human. I should’ve been terrified of the intruder, but his presence felt natural, like a normal part of the moment. This was definitely not a dream.

  “Who are you?” I asked, squinting at the bright light that stung my dark-adapted eyes.

  “I’m a guide.” He smiled—one of the sweetest expressions I had ever seen. A feeling of peace swept through me, washing away both the numbness and the pain of the past day.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “You have been given a rare opportunity.” His voice was calm, but his words left me confused. “You have to make a choice.”

  “What opportunity? What choice?” My voice shook with wonder.

  “Come,” he invited, holding his hand out to me. The moment I got to my feet, I found myself instantly by my visitor’s side. I looked into his eyes searching for answers—large, chocolate eyes reflecting an inner circle of golden flecks, as if a fire burnt within. Short, light brown hair neatly arranged to the side. He wore a white plain robe with a blue tie around his waist, securely fastened into a knot on his right hip.