***
It was, generally, in his nature to be skeptical and suspicious of everything in his world, including his beloved science. As he grew older, he never believed half of the “scientific” assertions he heard. He believed in science wholeheartedly, except for the ridiculous faux conflict between science and matters of faith. But he still had some reservations about the scientists themselves.
As a child, Adam held scientists, no matter their discipline, with a 1950’s-like reverence. The scientific method was more than a pathway to the truth; it was the freeway, the fast lane to human enlightenment. But along the way, he heard scientific thoughts or notions being touted as established fact when they remained largely unproven. Politicians then took every side of science fact and fiction, distorting the truth through oversimplification or outright misrepresentation. Each side had their own science guys as mouth pieces with each claiming to be, or not be, one thing or another.
“Hypothesis” was often confused with “theory”, he thought, and often each side misled at will to achieve some notional, incremental gain in the polls, with the base of their electorate or simply the world at large. Hypocrisy was everywhere, as was pettiness, jealousy and mistrust. As an adult, he was crushed to think that scientists were, after all, just human. Objectivity was not as pervasive as he had always believed and hoped.
As well it seemed to Adam that there were too many in the religious community deriding scientists and while too many scientists derided religion. Then there were too many moron politicians choosing to ignore proven science and wrap themselves in convenient religious precepts. They were all wrong and should be put in time out and made to learn again to be respectful to one another.
He often challenged Church doctrine in his local parish and the Bishop of Seattle was made aware of the devout ‘heretic’ in their midst. Adam never believed that his parish priests always took the Church’s hard line on every matter; he was certain that some were a few secret heretics like him walking the halls. Adam believed it wasn’t only fair game to challenge Church dogma but his obligation to do so. Adam was a Catholic, devout and observant. He would continue to disagree, while at the same time going to Mass and receiving communion. There would be no lapsing for this Catholic.
If change was ever going to happen, it had to come from the inside and from the faithful.
He chided his scientific colleagues for the casual insults they hurled and demeaning attitude they continuously showed to the religious community. Characterizing the faithful as little more than superstitious fools following unproven mumbo jumbo was de rigueur and immensely disrespectful. Adam also believed it was un-American. Tolerance and civility were bedrock American values he believed in, even if he chose to live in Canada.
Besides, science had its fair share of unproven and speculative mumbo jumbo. Nobody’s hands were totally clean and free from the stain of arrogance.
***
With this background in mind, Misti decided that honesty was the best policy with her hyper sensitive hubby and she would tell him everything.
She began, “Now I cannot share with you what I don’t actually know, only what I do know or suspect. Truthfully this whole thing started back in that spring when you were eleven years old and I was eight. You may recall that you put that kid in the hospital in Barrows Bay for talkin’ shit about your mother, then you put that other kid in the hospital for molesting me.”
“I recall.”
“Well our story begins on the Sunday after the picnic. You were on your way to Mass and Confession with the tias and your cousins. Mama kept me home until that night, then we went to Mass. Papa and your Daddy went fishin’, but they didn’t catch anything interesting that day. Unless netting a bunch of cold beers qualifies as a catch. Instead they had a conversation about you, me and the indefinite future.”
“I don’t follow. What does one have to do with the other?”
“My Papa and your Daddy had understood things about you for some time. Edward had told Papa about his childhood, his issues with ‘normal’ behavior and his utterly remorseless view of retribution and primal justice. Papa, not the psychopath he is often labeled, understood that while he broke the law and committed crimes, what Edward was talking about was qualitatively a different thing. Papa understood that what he, Papa, did was wrong and why. But he had done it anyway as a means of survival.
“But Edward did what he did for reasons related to his personal objectives and goals and felt nothing when people were hurt along the way. He felt no remorse, no guilt, only a tribal connection - an all or nothing tribal connection - to his family. And later to his large extended family.
“Papa is uneducated, but he isn’t stupid. He never knew the scientific name for someone like Edward, but he knew that Edward was dangerous when threatened. The Eight Families, on some level, knew the same but to them it didn’t matter. Edward was family and family is never betrayed and never given up.
“Both Edward and Papa saw this same undefined creature in you from an early age. It concerned your Dad but it frightened Papa. He had seen bits and pieces of the creature in me too. Little signs of something not right; something about watching bad things happen and feel nothing about it. Or inflicting pain for the pure enjoyment of the experience. Mama saw it and cried her eyes out; then she dragged me off to Mass hoping that prayer would somehow, some way to keep me out of jail. Papa saw it too and realized that Edward might be able to help. He had helped almost everyone in the Eight Families, why not him and his little girl?
“Papa thought that what Edward had learned to do was live in civil society with his proclivities and demons, while at the same time acting normal and becoming successful. If he could do it, and guide you, maybe Edward could help Papa’s little girl too. Mama hated the idea and blamed your Daddy for all their problems, including the way I had developed. But she eventually gave into the reality that something had to be done before it all spiraled out of control.
“So as set in motion on that Sunday so long ago, my education and training, therapy and guidance, safety and security and my entire future happiness was put in Edward’s hands. Every class, every summer experience and every waking hour of every day was planned by your father and his people.
“You and I were to be kept apart: no family outings, no play dates and no unnecessary interaction of any sort. We would be groomed for something different and important, and our individual intellectual educations, physical prowess and social responsibilities would be comprehensively monitored, and progress noted. With me, Edward was hands on and relentless. There were times that, until I reached age eleven or so, I hated him and all his fucking rules.
“Then, when I was eleven and waiting for Papa to arrive at my birthday party, I received a note from my Papa that you would be in Seattle in time for dinner. I should get dressed and get ready because Uncle Edward was taking me out to a fancy restaurant on my first big date. Did I remember the etiquette I was taught? My manners and how to make polite conversation? Could I order something from the big menu without help and understand what I had just ordered. Could I go out with Uncle Edward and behave myself, not get whiney or complain about the food being yucky? If I could, then Uncle Edward had a big surprise for me and a bunch of smaller surprises. I was so excited, I almost peed in my pants.
“Your Dad arrived at 6:30 that night, right on time. Punctuality, he said, was an important part of life and one that is seldom valued as highly as it should. You should value it too, he said and make it part of who you are here, inside. He touched his hand to his heart, something Edward has always done when making a point he wanted me to learn.
“We had dinner, at Toni’s on the Top. No longer in business but the view and the food were superlative back then. The minor presents were all fantastic and long since forgotten. Dresses, toys and goodies, all for doing my work, keeping to my schedule and loving my parents. Oh, and I could be a horrid child back then, but it somehow never counted against me with Ed
ward as long as I stuck to his plan. He had bigger fish to fry.
“So, on that night, in that restaurant, your father asked me if I still loved you, Adam Stephen St. James. Did I still want Adam St. James as my boyfriend when I grew up? Was that what I really wanted more than anything? Of course, I knew nothing of real relationships but that wasn’t what your father was asking. He was asking about ethereal enduring non-physical love, romantic undying love and love that cannot end even with death. He wanted to know if I, Misti Alarcon, loved his son, Adam St. James, and would I be willing to change my life in order to have you, that prize, one day?
“I was eleven years old and had no idea what he was talking about, much less what he had in store for me. I was a kid, a wide-eyed kid with a ‘maybe boyfriend’ who barely knew I was alive. I said yes, of course I was. I had no clue what that meant.
“Then, just before we got up to leave, while your Dad was paying the bill, he leaned over to me and said that very soon there would be changes coming and some of them might be challenging. That was the word he used. But if I continued my path, a new and harder path, one day he would give me what I most desired. You. Adam Stephen St. James. That, husband, became known to all in the Eight Families as ‘the Promise’.
“What I did after that, he said, was totally up to me. But he would keep his bargain if I kept mine.”
“What did he want?” asked Adam.
“He wanted to remake me and mould me into someone who could survive in a world that he said would not understand me, tolerate me or even appreciate me. When the changes came, I would need his help and I would have to do everything he said, when he said it. I said I would, again, having zero appreciation for the events about to transpire.
“Puberty hit me like a freight train. I had thoughts, a lot of thoughts and I couldn’t control their pace and complexity. My adjustment was difficult, and I became harder and harder to control. My aggression was alarming to Mama and upsetting to Papa. My transition from twelve to thirteen was rocky and I remember spending endless hours on the phone with Edward and time with him on weekends when he had business in Seattle. At that time, he did a lot of business in Seattle. We emailed and traveled some, Edward believing that it would do me good to get away from home and experience other places and people.
“My conduct and actions were sometimes even as much or more than Edward himself could handle but as quickly as that tsunami had arisen, it was over. By the time I was ready for my freshman year in High School, I was still raging but very much under control. In the summer before my first year at Sacred Heart, Edward sent me away to Italy for the summer. To learn Italian, the easy way. And to begin a second education not covered in a Jesuit High School curriculum.
“Which was?” Adam asked.
“Different every year. I spent every summer abroad, never in the same place twice. Every year a different language, different tutors and different subject matters. I had started on jiu-jitsu when I was eight and my martial arts training continued every school year after that, and every summer. Summers were intense and sometimes a trifle bit too much. I spent a summer in Israel one-year learning Hebrew and Krav Maga, a little ancient Greek and some Latin. The girls I trained with weren’t friendly and I was regularly kicked, beaten and humiliated. I was fifteen and vowed never to allow that to happen again. Whether Edward expected this, hoped for this or was just plain cruel, I don’t really know. But after that I was a different girl.
“I stopped complaining and stayed on course, whatever course it was that your Daddy put in front of me. I excelled at my studies, I began cleaning up at jiu-jitsu competitions along with Cindy. Cindy and I were inseparable then, whenever we were together at tournaments. We talked on the phone like normal kids and dreamed one day of making our respective Olympic teams. In one fell swoop, that ended for both Cindy and I. No national competitions and no training with the national team for Misti. Edward simply said nix to that; Cindy refused to compete if I was prohibited from competition. We had been competing together since we were nine. I didn’t understand the decision but Edward said no, and that was final. I knew the terms of our agreement and whether I liked them or not, I was bound and determined to honor them.
“For his part, your Dad kept his part of the bargain, with precision and in the minutest detail, no matter how small. I loved him immensely and hated him with a passion. But I did what he asked and had an amazing life any teen would have died for. I saw the world, learned foreign languages and was taught more useful shit that any kid could imagine. I could kill another human being by the time I was sixteen and handled that skill with discipline and control. Edward did not ever, however, permit me to exercise that skill. He still won’t.
“By the time I was eighteen and ready for college, I had another couple of adjustments to make. Cindy had married Rod right out of High School, so our secret affair ended on their wedding day, which I was not allowed to attend. Then she got pregnant right away. I was happy for my friend, but Cindy was the only girlfriend I had ever had who I knew I could trust. Not with everything, mind you, but she knew about the Edward factor and could share my joy and my pain.
“Then, in my sophomore year at the Dub, my mother died. Papa and I couldn’t live together after that and while I still don’t completely understand why, he left for Blaine and his condo. He just sorta dropped out and your Dad took over even more than before.
“I graduated from the University of Washington, with highest Honors, Summa with a major in linguistic anthropology and a minor in biochemistry. I speak seven languages in total, have a couple of black belts and had job offers from business, industry and government to come to their playground to work. Edward kept me in Seattle at the Dub even though the rest of the kids headed for college from the Eight Families had to leave to experience America and the world. They got whatever they wanted and were happy for the freedom. Edward paid for everyone, Adam. Everyone.”
“I didn’t know that. Or any of this about you. I am totally astonished.”
“One day I got an email from Edward, nothing unusual there. He was coming down for a visit and could we have dinner. He suggested Toni’s at the Top, but I had to tell him it was now closed. I suggested Mexican food at Misti’s, so he came over alone to discuss some important matters. I had just arrived back home from Thailand, the summer after graduation and expected him to surprise me with a car or some other trifle he knew I wanted. Your Dad can be a real prick but a generous and thoughtful prick.
“He asked how I was doing and what were my plans? I said, having pretty much finished the University of St. James, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. He asked if I remembered his promise to me and was I still interested. I told him I could never hold him to a promise he himself would be unable to keep, so I released him from his obligation. Edward informed me he had no intention of being so released and would abide no argument. Did I still have a crush on Adam St. James, yes or no?
“I said I did, I always had and had kept close track of the goings in in Barrows Bay. Cindy kept me up to speed, even after she and Rod married. Maria conspired with me for years, though you had better not ever mention that to her. She thought it was a big secret and always felt bad that you thought she disliked or was hostile toward Hannah.”
“Was she?”
“No, not really. More like she thought you and Hannah were a mismatch that could never work out. Maria doesn’t always see eye to eye on things with your Dad, but this is one where there was total agreement. Eventually, anyway. She didn’t so much dislike Hannah, as didn’t think Hannah was Ms. Right. Not because Hannah wasn’t ‘good enough’ for you but more like Hannah wasn’t crazy enough. Maria thought Hannah was a sweet kid and could never even begin to appreciate what her life with you would be like as Mrs. St. James. Nor did she think you would ever make her happy and give her the life she deserved. Edward, always the social engineer, believed that you needed a tougher, meaner and more suitable mate. Me. Your Mom was less certain abo
ut me, I’m told. Thought I was wrong for you too but for very different reasons.”
Adam said, “Mom was right, about Hannah I mean. So was Dad. I should thank them, but they’d deny all of this, I’m sure.”
“You got that right.”
“But how did they engineer us ‘meeting’?”
“That was Maria and Edward and the I-5 Intelligence Unit. The day you came into Seattle from DC, had you asked around, there wouldn’t have been a single open bed in all the Eight Families. But Maria knew where you would be heading first. And she knew you would do whatever tia and tio suggested, so I was on high alert all day until you arrived. The rest you know.”
“You sneaky, conniving woman? You all conspired to make all this happen?”
“No, they all conspired to give it a chance. Nobody knew your heart, not even your Mom. How could they? But she claims to know her son better than her son knows himself.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means whatever she thought it meant and that she had now has big plans for us along with your Daddy. Your Mom wasn’t always sold on ‘us’ and had real reservations but in the end, she now agrees it might just have a chance to actually work.”
Adam said, “But for this to actually come to pass was way more than improbable; it bordered on close to the impossible. There are just too many factors nobody, Dad included, could control: twists and turns, character and attraction, matters of taste and intelligence, sexual preference - and plain old luck. For this to ever come to pass as planned, it would have to be a fucking miracle. Truly, it’s the Hand of God.”
“Maybe. Or maybe it’s just fucking dumb luck and hard work, coupled with the fact that I’m hot as hell and you, mister, are one giant horn dog. But that’s the story you wanted and the one I promised to share. There is a whole bunch more, of course; these are just the highlights. I’m omitting a lot of nonsense and questionable behavior on my part, but you get the gist. Feel free to grill me now or later, if you still want. Some things I’ll only discuss once; some I don’t mind bringing up again, good or ill. The topic of Cindy is closed, except for our time in jiu-jitsu.”
Discovery Page 73