by V.
Alexander went directly to a small record collection arranged against a corner wall next to a portable record player, fingered through the selection, and placed several records on the player. Seconds later, Hernando’s Hideaway emanated from the two speakers. Alexander cranked up the volume before heading to a sideboard by the kitchen. He snagged a bottle, grabbed a couple of glasses, poured two whiskeys, and handed one to the boy.
Momentarily stunned by the whirlwind of activity, Danny considered his drink for a moment, took a sip, grimaced and stifled a cough.
“Let’s build a fire outside. Follow me.” Alexander shimmied out onto the porch.
Danny set his drink on the table by the typewriter and stepped outside.
Alexander pointed to a pile of firewood. “Bring as much as you can carry.” Without missing a step, he pranced down the steps and over to a circle of rocks in a clearing in front of the cabin and uncluttered its center by kicking the burnt wood around to the beat of the music.
Danny arrived with an armful of firewood and piled it neatly next to the ring.
Dancing and singing to the music, Alexander signaled Danny to follow him back inside.
Danny finally broke down, dancing after him into the cabin. Alexander danced, drank, and sang as he gathered up as much of the crumpled paper as he could handle. He signaled for the boy to follow suit then snatched up the bottle of whiskey on his way out the door.
With his arms crammed full of crumpled paper, Danny joined Alexander outside and dropped his load into the circle of rocks.
Alexander piled wood on top of the paper and produced a cigarette lighter. In moments the fire took off sending scores of tiny sparks flying high into the night air. Delighted with the results, he turned to Danny, ready to toast to their creation, and stopped with his glass in midair.
“Where the hell is your drink?”
“I left it inside.”
“Well, go get it.”
“I’m not supposed to drink alcohol. I’m only fifteen.”
“Bullfeathers! Go get your drink,” Alexander commanded dismissively.
Danny rushed into the cabin, emerged with the glass of whiskey and joined his host by the fire. Alexander clinked glasses and downed his drink. Danny took a sip and grimaced.
“Gulp it down,” he commanded with a nudge to the boy’s elbow, forcing him to swallow his entire drink.
Eyes wide, Danny sputtered and gasped as the alcohol burned its way down. Satisfied with the reaction, Alexander refilled their glasses and toasted. “C’mon, let’s dance to friendship.” With that, he took off prancing and singing around the fire.
They circled the fire for several minutes, and after a few turns, Alexander dropped to the ground, arms and legs stretched wide, and stared up into the night sky.
Moments later Danny joined him and the two lay side by side, catching their breath and contemplating the stars.
“The sky here is almost as beautiful as it is in Spain,” Alexander said with a nostalgic sigh. “Toledo’s the best. That’s why El Greco painted it so often.” “I’ve never been outside Amaray, not even to Chicago.”
“You’ve got to go out into the world to live life and find yourself. It’s the only way you’ll get to be everything you ever wished to be. I was a bullfighter.” “Yeah, one of those bulls killed you.”
“Bastard got me right here.” He pulled up his shirt to reveal a large scar below his ribs.
“Wow.”
“Fucker. I had to spend the rest of that year painting portraits. And apparently, my friend, that is my true gift in life. Scattered all over Spain are Alexander’s portraits of anonymous people.” He snickered. “Hah! My gift.” Danny chuckled with him. “That’s a good gift to have.”
“No. I crave what you have.”
“Me? What do I have?”
“You have the best gift of all—the gift of love. Everybody loves Danny.” Danny sat up and stared somberly into the fire, the effects of the whiskey apparent.
“Love is tough. I was in love with Ellie. But Mrs. Foster made me feel... well...I’d never felt what she made me feel. Her tongue and her. ..uh...I mean.. .she gave me.. .such a feeling.”
Alexander rose up and squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “My friend, this sky is not a feeling, this fire is not a feeling, and her tongue was not a feeling. You are the feeling, the only real feeling. Never forget that.”
“Boy, you’re right.” Danny’s eyes widened, impressed by such words of wisdom. “Wow, man...so what should I do? I’m after true love, like Wesley in your book.”
“Then, go for it.”
“With Ellie or Mrs. Foster?”
“With either one. Or better yet, with both of them.” Alexander grabbed the whiskey bottle only to find it empty. Frustrated, he struggled to his feet and wobbled toward the cabin. “Need a refill.” At the top of the steps he stopped and turned back to his new friend and pointed at him. “Keep one thing in mind. A man is remembered for what he seeks, not for what he finds.” Danny’s eyes followed Alexander until he disappeared into the cabin, then they drifted back to the fire.
“Wow.. .that’s really profound.”
“Sarah, darling.” Conrad reached for her hand.
Startled, Sarah shook her head. “Sorry, I got distracted. Did I miss anything?”
They sat in their living room, alongside Daniel and Elisabeth, enjoying a glass of wine and a handful of small appetizers.
“I told them the menu. A French meal all the way—isn’t that decadent?” “I’m not sure about decadent, but coq au vin certainly sounds merveil-leux,” Daniel exclaimed in a perfect French accent. “Thank you, ladies.”
“Too bad you can’t have any wine, Daniel,” Elisabeth said as she sipped from her glass. “This one—” She tipped the bottle to read the label. “Saint Emilion is s-u-a-v-e. Good choice, Conrad.”
“Glad you like it. I figured it was the least I could do for our wonderful chefs to complement our French meal. What are these by the way?”
“Flotteurs—means ‘floats’ in English.” Elisabeth giggled. “Isn’t that a funny name?”
“Elisabeth prepared the appetizers and the entire dinner,” Sarah said with pride.
“I did the cooking, but Sarah stood by my side the whole time. We had great fun.”
“Tell us all about it,” Daniel said.
“Men don’t like to talk about cooking,” Elisabeth said.
“Yes, we do, don’t we, Conrad?”
“Absolutely.” Conrad winked at his wife then settled back on the sofa. “Go ahead. Tell us all about it.”
Elisabeth shook her head. “I have a better idea. Let’s play a game. You gentlemen have to taste a morsel and then guess what’s in it. Whoever gets the most points, wins.”
“What do we win?” asked Daniel.
“Fifty dollars,” Elisabeth announced proudly.
Conrad leaned forward on the sofa, rubbing his palms together with mock greed. “That’s definitely worth playing for.”
“Now,” said Elisabeth, “neither one of you has an advantage since Sarah and I worked with Tom to gather the ingredients. Unless”—she turned to Conrad—“you’ve peeked in the kitchen and the cupboards.”
“I’ve been in Seattle all day.”
Elisabeth turned to Sarah who nodded in confirmation. “Okay, you have to tell us what’s in each dish. Understood?”
“You mean you expect us to name the actual ingredients?” Daniel asked.
“Yep, both for the appetizers and the dinner. After all, it’s fifty dollars.” “How about it, Daniel—are you up to it?” Conrad was chomping at the bit to get started.
“Sure. How about we start with the tapenade?” Daniel asked, gesturing. Conrad burst out laughing. “Whoa, you’re already ahead of me... tapenade? I would’ve called it a spread.”
“One point to Daniel,” Elisabeth decreed. “What’s in it?”
Each man spread some tapenade on a cracker, took a bite, and savored it. “Well?” El
isabeth prompted. “You go first Conrad, since Daniel already has a point, and then we’ll switch to him for the second ingredient, and so on. It’ll be like ping pong with food.”
“Olives,” Conrad said.
“Kalamata,” added Daniel.
“One point for Conrad, and one for Daniel.” Elisabeth snickered and winked at Conrad. “He’s beating you.”
“Kalamata, eh?” said Conrad. “Okay, I’ll be more specific. Do I go again?” “No, second ingredient is Daniel’s,” Elisabeth ruled.
“Capers,” Daniel said.
“There are too many brands of capers,” Conrad interjected. “I have no clue which ones you used.”
“Don’t worry about brands, just the types, and only if it’s applicable, like with the olives,” Elisabeth clarified. “You’re next, Conrad.”
“Anchovies,” he said, savoring another bite.
“And a bit of garlic,” Daniel added.
“Wow,” Sarah said with a chuckle. “You guys are good.”
“Now to the floats,” Elisabeth prompted.
“Sarah’s delicious homemade baguette,” Conrad said proudly as he reached over to caress her hand.
“And Port-Salut cheese. Is that right?” Daniel asked as he tasted the little float.
“Daniel, you know your French cheeses,” Elisabeth exclaimed.
Daniel’s eyes widened. “I do?” He pondered the question. “I guess I do.” “Your French accent is also very good. Parisian, I’d say,” Sarah added. “And you have a solid understanding of foods,” Conrad said.
“A chef,” exclaimed Elisabeth. “You could be a chef. Do you like cooking?” “I have no idea, but I like good food.”
“Well, why don’t we test it out? Tomorrow morning instead of you going down to the diner for breakfast, I’ll pick you up and you’ll come to my house and make us some breakfast.”
“Elisabeth,” Conrad intervened. “It’s not a good idea for Daniel to be seen going into your home, he—”
“C’mon, Conrad, he’s perfectly safe with me, and I’m not worried about what people might or might not say.”
“But—”
Elisabeth shook her head. “My mind’s made up. I promise I’ll have him back to the store by nine. Besides, it might help bring back some memories.”
Conrad shook his head.
“Okay, how about this? If you bring Sarah down, she can chaperone us.” “I’m babysitting the little ones tomorrow. Sorry.”
“There has to be a way.” It was clear that Elisabeth did not intend to relent. “How about Daniel spends the night at my house tonight and that way no one will notice me picking him up. You can drive by the house in the morning and—”
“Elisabeth, no. That’s not an option.” Conrad was adamant.
“Conrad,” Sarah ventured, “do you suppose Tom might be willing to pick him up and join them for breakfast?”
“There you have it. The perfect option,” Elisabeth exclaimed.
Resigned but unconvinced, Conrad sighed and smiled. “Women.. .Well, Daniel, looks like you’ll be fixing breakfast tomorrow if Tom’s up to it.”
“Don’t go to all this trouble over me, please. I don’t wish to impose on Tom and—”
“Let’s call him and find out if he’s available. C’mon.” Conrad rose and headed toward the foyer. “Ladies, we’ll join you in the dining room in a minute.” Daniel sheepishly followed Conrad to the foyer.
“I’m sorry, Conrad, for causing such a stir with your family.”
Conrad shook his head. “Don’t worry. Elisabeth is a bit headstrong and I’m concerned that—”
“It’s not good for her reputation to be seen with me.”
“There’s that, yes, but also that she could get herself, and you, into. unexpected trouble.”
“You don’t imagine that I would take advantage of her?”
“No, of course not. But she’s another story. She’s taken a serious liking to you, and I—”
“A liking?”
Conrad chuckled. “Come on, Daniel. She’s clearly smitten. Haven’t you noticed?”
“No, not really. She’s fun to be with, and I like her a lot.”
“That’s great. But for both your sakes, make sure it doesn’t go any further than that.”
“What do you mean?”
“What if you’re married and have a family, or a girlfriend—or even a fiance?”
A dark shadow descended upon Daniel. “Somehow, I don’t believe that’s the case,” he muttered. “Wouldn’t they have come after me by now? Wouldn’t they be looking for me?”
“Maybe they are. In any case, until we’re certain, promise me you’ll play it safe. Okay?”
Daniel nodded, but Conrad remained unconvinced.
Illuminated only by moonlight that seeped through a small window, the attic welcomed Sarah as she stepped in later that evening. It enveloped her in a cocoon of comfort and security among cherished memories and furnishings from times past. She sat in Conrad’s great-grandmother’s armchair and chose not to flick on the old floor lamp, enjoying the moon’s luminescence. Sarah leaned forward in the chair.
“C’mon attic, it’s time for you to help me. I’m sure you’re well aware of what’s going on. Who’s playing this movie in my head?”
The attic responded with its familiar cricks and cracks.
Sarah shook her head. “No. That’s not enough. You have to give me more.”
But the attic only repeated the same response.
“The last time you helped me unravel a mystery it had to do with the history of this house and its twin. We’re friends, you and I. So please, I need your help. Who’s playing the movie? Why? Is this boy Danny our mystery man Daniel? Why 1976? What am I supposed to do?”
Squeak. Pop.
“I need more than that, please.”
In a flash, Sarah found herself looking through the ocular lens of the scope of a rifle. The scope slowly scanned the woods. Somehow she felt and heard the breath of the person holding the rifle—a man. Her eyes were his eyes, her view his view.
A deer appeared through the rifle’s scope. The search stopped. The deer moved left and the scope followed. The hunter tightened his grip on the rifle and increased the pressure on the trigger. As the hunter fired, the deer’s head moved revealing a man behind it. Through the lens of the rifle, Sarah followed the bullet headed toward the man.
The face of Sheriff Billy Williams flashed before her.
Sarah blinked and the view through the scope vanished.
She was back in the attic. Her breathing was rapid, her lips trembled, and her cold hands were clasped tightly onto the arms of the chair.
“What was that?” she whispered, her face white with fear.
Silence.
“Attic, what in the world did you show me? Did Sheriff Williams murder someone?
Silence.
“That’s not the answer I need,” she said, exasperated. She leaned her head back and within seconds the screen in her mind took over.
CHAPTER 8
The door to Danny’s bedroom burst open and his father stood in the doorway tapping his foot. “You missed my sermon, boy.”
Danny struggled to open his eyes, but they refused to cooperate. “What?” “Don’t tell me your mother is still getting you ready for church on Sundays. You’re old enough to do it on your own. How can you be asleep at this hour?” “What hour?”
“Don’t get smart with me, boy. It’s almost noon. You embarrassed me by not being there. Everyone asked me if you were all right and I looked like a fool trying to come up with an answer.” He walked to the bed and peered down at Danny. “What’s wrong with you?”
Danny rubbed his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows only to collapse back onto his pillow. “Oh.. .my head.. .I’m sick to my stomach...”
Concerned, his father placed a hand on his forehead. “You don’t have a fever.” Danny grunted.
“What did you eat at the picnic last night?”
“It’s not what I ate, it’s what I drank.” Immediately Danny caught his mistake, popped his eyes open and blurted out, “It was.. .uh.. .some chocolate milk Robert had.”
Clearly satisfied with his son’s explanation, the minister patted his shoulder and turned to go. “In this heat milk goes bad fast. Tell Robert to be more careful. Make sure you drink plenty of liquids and get some rest. You’ll be better soon enough.”
“Okay.”
Hugo stopped halfway out the door. “Can you take care of yourself? I’ve got to attend to some business.”
Danny nodded, grunted, and squeezed his head between his hands.
“You sure?”
He took a deep breath in an attempt to keep his stomach under control. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
“I won’t be back till after dinner. Is that all right with you?”
Danny closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the pillow. “Sure. I’m going to stay in bed and sleep.”
“At least change into your pajamas. Your mother would be horrified to find you sleeping in yesterday’s clothing. I’ll call you later, if I can.”
“No, Dad, don’t call. If I’m asleep you’ll wake me up. Don’t worry about me.”
“Fine. By the way your mom called earlier. There were a few complications with the birth. All are fine, but she’s staying an extra week to help her sister with the baby.”
“How was your sermon?”
“Fell on deaf ears as usual. I’ll be back tonight.” Without waiting for a response he shut the door behind him.
Danny closed his eyes and groaned.
Moments later Robert crawled in through the open window. “You sick?” Danny rolled over and covered his head with the pillow.
“You missed church.”
He muttered through the pillow, “Go away.”
“Man, you do look pretty bad. Geez, you slept in your clothes.”
Danny removed the pillow from his face. “Go away.”
Ignoring his friend, Robert sat on the foot of the bed, causing it to bounce several times. “Guess what. I’m going to let my hair grow. Chicks like guys with long hair.”