by S London
“Isn’t that a fish face?” Ben chuckled, mocking the boy.
The boy giggled. “I guess you’re right. Smarty.”
“Smarty? Ha, kid. You got the wrong person. I’m nowhere near a smarty. I’m such a dodo.”
“Dodo? Isn’t that a bird? You don’t look like a bird to me.”
The boy laughed, held out his arms and flapped them up and down several times. “Caw! Caw!” he whispered. And levitated.
Ben’s eyes widened. He didn’t know how to respond. “Whoa…” He mumbled, speechless.
The boy giggled and stopped flapping his arms. He was once again on the step behind Ben.
“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” he said. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. Or to think.
“Dreaming? No. But maybe you should be. Go home and rest.” The boy answered.
“I don’t have a home anymore.” Ben said, more to himself than to the boy. He turned and looked down the long winding driveway. Suddenly he could remember how happy he had been when he had first seen this place. How much love he felt for it, like it was calling to him. The sights, the sounds, the smells, the feeling in the air… it was perfect. A perfect place to make a home for his family.
“I said home, not house. A house doesn’t make a home. A home makes a house. Geez, I’m only nine years old and I know that much.” The boy rolled his eyes.
“A home makes a house? I’ve heard that somewhere before…” Ben mumbled.
“I’m sure you have.”
Ben turned back to look at the boy again, studying his face. “Who are you?” he asked several silent moments later.
The boy giggled. “I’m Adam.”
“Adam.” Ben repeated. “I don’t know any Adams.”
“You do now. I’m Adam. The duck… I mean fish!” The boy extended his hand, and puckered his lips again.
Ben shook it, and made the fish face too. They both laughed.
They were still laughing heartily a moment later when a car pulled into the driveway, honking. The cab. Ben watched it pull up closer to the house and stop in front of the pile of logs. He felt the hand of the boy still on his shoulder.
“Good luck with everything.” The boy whispered.
The driver put the car in park and turned the car off. He pulled the knob to release the latch on the trunk. He got out and went to the back of the car, raising the trunk lid, then went to the back and took
stuff out, transferring it to the trunk.
Luggage and backpacks. Seems someone forgot to take their belongings.
“You ready?” The cab driver called out, slamming the trunk lid closed then closing the back door of the cab.
“Yeah.” Ben called and stood, dusting off his bottom as he turned to say goodbye to the boy. “I guess…” he started to say, but stopped. The boy was gone. “Huh…”
“Goodbye.” He said, even though no one was out to hear him, except maybe the cab driver. But if the cab driver had heard him, he made no remark.
The two men got into the cab and a minute later drove away.
“So what was so funny outside a minute ago?” The cab driver wasted no time starting a conversation with Ben. An older man, in his sixties, he took interest in everyone’s life story and anything anyone
had to say. His wife had passed away eight years ago and ever since, he had returned to work as a cab driver, mostly for the company.
Ben looked at the man with the silver hair and shrugged. “That boy is something, I tell you.” He looked out the back window, at house, at the steps, at the line of rose bushes that he knew led to the path to the beach.
“What boy?” The cabbie asked.
“He was outside with me, until you pulled in.”
The man eyed Ben through the rear view mirror. “I guess he left when I pulled in. I knew I was scary looking but from that far away? My, my.” The old man chuckled.
“No he was there… he was there when you pulled in and when you stopped. He was... I know he was. He said good luck when you stopped by the logs.”
The man chuckled. “You’re just pulling my leg, aren’t you?”
Ben looked at the man, intently. He was speechless; he didn’t know what to say. “No, I’m sure there was a boy there.”
“Okay.” The man didn’t know what to say.
“Wait a minute.” Ben said. “Are you telling me that you didn’t see him?”
“Sir, I only saw you when I pulled in. I only saw you when I parked. I saw you laughing.”
“Huh.”
“Maybe it was a ghost, sir.” The cab driver suggested and chuckled.
“That’s impossible. There’s no such thing.” Ben replied, smiling. He really did believe that it was impossible but at the moment, with everything happening, he was beginning to wonder.
“Sir, trust me. When I was a baby, they told my momma I didn’t have a good chance at life. But I made it. When I was married to my first wife, we tried and tried to have a family. The doctor, her father, told me I wasn’t able to make babies, and I would never have a family, unless I adopted. My first wife wanted nothing to do with adoption and wanted a real family. She left me. I was devastated. I went away to war. When I returned I met a beautiful woman and fell in love again. We got pregnant on the first try. And now, now I’m almost seventy. I have nine children and twenty four grandchildren. I’ve lived in six different houses, two of them hopping with paranormal activity. My brothers-in-law are paranormal investigators and researchers. They’re legit. So please sir, trust me when I say that nothing is impossible.”
“Nine children… wow. My mother didn’t believe in adoption either. She was pretty set in her ways about everything. I never knew my father, though, so it’s pretty much a slap in the face.”
“A slap in the face? What happened to your father?”
“Mother says he left her when he found out she was pregnant.”
“Oh… that’s not the way a man should act.”
“Yeah, well, she says he went off to war. Perhaps you know him.” Ben chuckled.
“Perhaps. There were a lot of men in my unit that went out to get away from their pregnant girlfriends. Apparently diapers and baby giggles are scarier than being shot at and blown up.” The old man chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood.
Ben chuckled too.
“What about you? Have you a family?”
“Not anymore…” Ben answered.
“Oh? You didn’t leave your pregnant girlfriend, did you?”
Ben chuckled. “No, of course not. I would never. I really want a family. I was with my girl for eight years, but nothing was going anywhere. It was stuck on halt for the last seven years. No physical contact, no communication, nothing that a family should be.”
“What about the first year?”
“Oh, it was the best year of my life, to be honest. We were madly in love, always laughing, always talking about the future, always hugging and kissing…”
“And then?”
“And then it just changed one day. She was in an accident, and the doctors weren’t sure what they could do for her. They said they tried everything but it wasn’t looking good. I stayed there with her at the hospital for over a month. She was barely hanging on. She had tubes and wasn’t allowed to eat
solids so every day I would bring her applesauce and ice cream. It was her favorite. We would lay there and eat apple sauce and ice cream and watch soap operas.”
“My, my. I sure hate those things.” The driver chuckled.
Ben chuckled too. “Me too but with her, it was okay. As long as I was near her, it didn’t matter what we did.”
“That’s the power women have over us.”
They both chuckled again. “Yeah and then one day, after a month, I had to come home for a couple days because I was only allowed to take a month off work before they got on my case and threatened to take my license away from me and so she told me she would be okay without me. She told me to go home. So I did. I went home and went back to
work. Of course I was distracted, and hardly able to focus on anything, but I got through the days and I didn’t lose my job.”
Ben paused and looked out the window, a smile forming as he saw the images of the day playing over in his mind. “Then one day, she walks into the office. She looked as good as new. Her scars were gone. She had healed really nicely. That’s when the distance started though. We still had a good relationship. We were still in love, but physical stuff was limited. She seemed timid to be too near to me and I didn’t want to push her because she had just spent forever in the hospital…” Ben’s words trailed off. He realized he had just rambled to a complete stranger. “I’m sorry.” He said.
“Don’t be. So, it’s been like that ever since, I’m assuming?”
“Yea, pretty much.” Ben said. He decided to leave out the most recent part of his life. He decided it best to just try to forget it completely, and to try to move on.
“Well, you sound like a decent man. Things will work out, I’m sure. Just give it time. By the way, my name is Paul. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. I’m the only cab driver in this area named Paul.” Paul said to Ben, and smiled.
“Thanks, Paul.” The cab pulled up in front of the Waldorf-Astoria.
“We’re here.”
“Thanks much.” Ben said and stepped out of the cab. He stood on the street, watched the cab drive away before walking into the building.
"Façade"
“I think you should take a look at this.”
“The closet? What, are there ancient sheets in there or something?” Ben joked.
If only he knew how close to the truth he really was…
“An ancient bedroom.” Christi answered, but there was no humor in her words.
“Umm…” he mumbled, realizing Christi was serious. He grasped her arm lightly. “There’s umm… it’s not… still occupied… is it?”
Christi giggled. Not because anything was funny but because that was her next surprise. “Do you want the truth?” She asked, noticing that though verbally he sounded scared, physically a gleam of intrigue flickered in his eyes. Christi knew this façade well and had long ago learned how to handle it.
“I…” he paused and scratched his sideburn. An itch that didn’t truly exist… on a sideburn that should not exist. “I’m not sure we should intrude on our ‘roommate’… maybe we ought to just wait for an invite.” There again, the sparkle and tone.
Christi knew this façade was merely Ben’s way of being scrupulous. And she knew why too. It was one of the many things they had in common, one of the dozen secrets they shared, and why they
understood each other so well. They were connected from another life, unknowingly. In this life, it was the love of family and psychology that had brought them together and kept them connected. Plus, they were the only two people in the Big Apple that lived as if they were afraid to spend a dollar. As if that dollar would corrupt the entire world.
Though Christi wouldn’t much care, for the world was over-crowded with less than decent people, in her opinion. She wouldn’t care at all if it weren’t for the 3rd world children. Why they were called 3rd world children, she had yet to figure out. But either way, she saved every bit of change at the end of every day and swore to herself she’d continue to save until she had enough to make her dream come true. And to make sure fooling her plan was impossible she also swore to never tell anyone about it… until the right time. “Or maybe I’ll never tell anyone. And I’ll do it all on my own. After all, it is my dream. And the last thing I need is some lunatic with pen writing about me, making me some ‘character’ in a novel…” Christi had said to herself. And to Adam.
And to Abby. Abby had been in Christi’s life for several years now. And Adam, after that accident with the boat, had become something like that of an accomplice to Abby. It brought a sense of comfort to Christi, having her brother always watching over her, and to have Abby around to talk to. But the older Christi got, the more she realized how young Abby was, and always would be. Her brother too. It was crazy to think of him as young, and to think of her as older. For ‘she’ was the younger one, born two years after Adam. Same month and same day, people often mistook them as twins. And they looked it, too.
Several years ago, several times during visits with Dr. Branham at his office, Adam would appear, listening in, being nosy. Sometimes he would stand behind Dr. B’s chair and make faces at Christi, and
sometimes he’d sit on Dr. B’s desk right in front of Dr. Branham. That was the first time Christi witnessed the ‘scared but intrigued’ act.
At first, they both pretended to not see Adam. But Adam had important news and was adamant about getting some attention. Christi had noticed Ben’s eyes glance casually toward Adam when Adam hopped off Ben’s desk and walked around it, and stood beside Ben’s chair. She held her breath, discreetly biting her bottom lip, unsure what her brother was up to, knowing he was capable of anything and brave enough to make even the biggest of big scenes in the most public of all public
places. So when Adam took a seat on Dr. Branham’s lap, it wasn’t of much surprise to Christi However, it was for Dr. Branham. Christi watched his eyes widen, his face turn pale and then flushed. His eyes darted from one desk item to the other.
“What- what are you doing?” he demanded, his voice shaky but not angry.
Christi genuinely thought he was asking her. So she answered. “Just trying to figure out ‘what’ that is.” She pointed in his direction when he looked at her, though she was really pointing past him at the large abstract painting on the wall directly behind Ben’s desk.
“Don’t you mean who?” he asked, thinking Christi was pointing at him, and the nine year old boy in his lap.
“Who?” She made a face as if his question had offered her a new perspective on the way she viewed the doc’s ridiculously expensive Diablo painting.
“Doesn’t look like any person to me…” she said, trying to sound puzzled, though she knew what he was referring to.
“Oh, really? What does it look like to you?”
‘Okay. He’s good at this too.’ Christi thought. ‘Or maybe he doesn’t see Adam. Maybe I’m only fretting…’
OCTOBER, 2007
“You cannot help. No one can help. Don’t you get it? There’s nothing anyone can do to help me!” the young girl screamed at the police detective standing in front of her. “I’m sorry but I have to go. I
have places to be, people to see, and things to do.” She said calmly and turned to walk away, heading for the door.
“I’m sorry, miss, but I cannot let you go.” The detective grabbed the girl’s arm and held firmly onto her. She trembled beneath his grasp. The feeling of his hand on her arm sent a jolt of electricity through
her veins. Weird, she thought, not sure what that was all about.
“Please. I know I didn’t do anything wrong here, so you have no reason to hold me hostage in my own home. Unless you get your thrills out of it, I think you should move on to more important things going on in this world. Even in this town, I know there are plenty of people you can be looking after. I’m not one of them, I’m sure of it. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going now. You’ve wasted enough of my time as it is. You can let yourself out.”
“Miss, wait one moment.” The detective said softly. “I think you’re in danger. I cannot let you wander around out there alone. I’m sorry.”
Christi turned and walked out the front door, leaving the detective alone in her kitchen doorway. The cab was waiting for her in the driveway, running and ready to drive off. She hopped in and the driver drove away.
“What’s with the police car?” the cab driver asked.
“Oh, umm… well, he just showed up about half an hour ago, saying he was sent to watch over me… or
something like that. Seriously, Luis, I think he just has nothing better to do.”
“Watch over Miss Stephens?”
Luis chuckled. “Shouldn’t he be out fi
ghting crime or something?”
“Yeah, you would think.” Christi laughed too.
“Ah, Miss Stephens, I must say, this vacation out here on the beach has done wonders for you.”
“Wonders for me, meaning what exactly?”
“Meaning the Miss Stephens that I miss and adore has returned.”
Christi knew exactly what Luis was referring to. It had been a long time since they had been able to have conversations in the cab, and to be able to laugh about things. It had been a long time since Christi had felt like her old self. “I do declare, I must agree with you.” She answered in a fake British accent.
MARCH, 2006
“I want her to suffer. I want her to go through as much humiliation as I have this past year. No. I want worse than that. I want her to go to hell; or at least be put through hell for… an extended period of
time… days. No, months… no, years! I laugh at my evil plot to end this young woman’s precious good years and turn her into the two-faced snot-nosed bitch she really is… and yet she acts so proper with her high heels and professional attire. Yeah, girls like her are just inkling for a tinkling, if you know what I mean. And this girl, more than another really, deserves it. I want reality to slap her in the face. So paint the words reality on me and point me in her direction old wise compass that I call my husband… Mr. Lying Cheating Ingrate himself.
It would be much easier to just walk into his office and blurt out that I saw him with miss perfect perky prissy princess but no… that would be too easy. And might I add not much fun either. Why should he have all the fun and I stay here and suffer and take the easy way out? That is not fair in my opinion. No, in my opinion he needs what is coming for him and he needs what he has been asking for by doing this to me. Hell.”
Beth finished typing her blog entry with pleasure, suddenly feeling better about the ridiculous situation she found herself in – amazing, she thought, how revenge could make one feel better.