Secrets of Innocence

by V.

“Physically maybe, but what about his memory?”

  “It’ll come back in time. Don’t tell me you came to tell him about your visions in the attic?”

  “How about hint here and there to jar his memory?”

  “Sarah—”

  “I get it, I get it. I shouldn’t rush. But the movie showed that Danny’s made his choice—he dumped Ellie for Mrs. Foster and—”

  “We’re not sure of that.”

  “Oh, c’mon Conrad, if not that, then what?”

  “That’s the point.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’ll wait one more day. After that, I’m going to Williams.”

  Conrad shook his head in exasperation. “You are maddeningly obstinate.” “It’s not that. We agreed to wait three days for Alexander to clarify the images before I acted on them. He hasn’t. We also agreed that I’d go and try to make peace with Williams. If I’m extra nice to him he might agree to work with me.”

  Conrad hesitated. “I should go with you.”

  “You’ll make him nervous. He’s a bit afraid of you and all the support your family has around these parts. Folks love you.”

  “Buttering me up won’t work.”

  “Anyway, I’m a frail woman and if he feels superior to me, maybe he’ll open up a bit.”

  “A frail woman? Really, Sarah.”

  “I don’t mind being perceived that way if we make progress.” Sarah leaned over the counter and kissed Conrad. “I’m off to bake him a chocolate-strawberry tart to soften his heart.”

  “What about me? I have a heart, too.”

  “Of course, I’ll fix one for us as well.”

  “Please don’t get into any trouble.”

  “I’ll try.”

  CHAPTER 16

  “Daniel, you’ve got so many neat tricks up your sleeve.” Elisabeth beamed as she cut the tips of the asparagus diagonally like he’d instructed. “These look so much better.”

  “The look and taste of food go hand in hand. I hope it’s not too much asparagus. Doc may not be too keen on eating both asparagus soup and asparagus with beef.”

  “But they looked so wonderful I couldn’t resist. Better to cook them than to waste them. Doc will understand. Besides, the flavors are so different it won’t matter. Here,” she handed him a bowl filled to the rim with freshly cut asparagus.

  Daniel took the bowl and touched her hand. Their eyes met and they blushed. Gently, their hands separated, leaving behind only the memory of the moment.

  “You’re making great progress as a cook,” he said.

  “I do enjoy it now that I’m not obligated to do it,” she said, and smiled.

  “C’mon then, let’s roll out the dough. It’s been a good ten minutes since you got it out of the fridge.”

  Elisabeth grabbed the dough and handed it to Daniel.

  “No,” he said. “You do it. Roll the dough into a nice ball first.”

  “I’ve never made a tart crust. Isn’t it awfully hard?”

  “There’s nothing to it if you have the correct recipe. Some pastry chefs make it look difficult and add lots of unnecessary steps to get you to pay good money for their desserts, but it’s quite easy. Now, before you roll the dough sprinkle a bit of flour on the counter and the ball. Rub a bit of flour on the rolling pin, and then roll it in one direction to flatten it.”

  Clumsily, Elisabeth attempted to do as he said. Daniel nestled behind her and placed his hands over hers, gently pushing the rolling pin. He stood so close that his breath stirred the loose hairs behind her right ear, causing them to flutter in rhythm with his voice.

  “The key to good baking is to love the dough and work it with delicacy,” Daniel whispered. “Tender strokes up down, then diagonally, then horizontally as we shape it into a nice disc.” Again and again they rolled the pin until they’d flattened the ball into a large circle.

  Elisabeth felt her knees weaken, her heart pound and her breath catch. “This is nice,” she managed to utter, hoping the moment would last forever.

  “It is,” he whispered back as he pressed closer, his body aching with need.

  Once finished, he took a step back. “Be careful not to overwork the dough or it’ll lose its essence,” he said in a raspy voice.

  Before Elisabeth could turn to engage him, the doorbell rang.

  “Doc’s here,” Daniel said as he left the kitchen. “We may be ready with dinner, but I’m not sure I’m ready for this physical exam,” he muttered to himself as he headed for the front door. “If I pass, it means the end of our visits. I’m not ready for that.”

  Having finished his examination, Dr. Lawrence sat at the desk in Elisabeth’s study. He wrote a few notes in his medical chart while Daniel finished buttoning his shirt.

  “You’re on the road to a full recovery,” the doctor said. “Your injuries, both internal and external, have healed very nicely. All that remains now is to retrieve that memory of yours.”

  “How do we do that? I have a few familiar feelings, Doc, but no specific recollections.”

  “Well, that’s really not my department. I could recommend you to a good psychiatrist or psychologist if you wish.”

  “And what could they do that you can’t?” Daniel said as he sat in the chair across the desk.

  “The mind and emotions are tied to our well-being and those fall within their field of expertise, not mine. They could guide you better than I can.”

  “I don’t like psychiatrists or psychologists. I don’t trust them.”

  “Oh?” He lowered his glasses, raised his eyebrows, and stared at Daniel.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You’re very firm in your opinion about psychology. Where does that come from?”

  Daniel shook his head. “I can’t tell where it comes from but I’m not even comfortable talking about it. It’s as if I’m repulsed by the mere suggestion of being probed by such a doctor.”

  “Are the sensations you mentioned earlier as strong and definite as this one?”

  “Pretty much, as if I’ve experienced that same situation before.”

  “So you’ve been ‘probed’ by a psychiatrist or psychologist before, and you didn’t like it.”

  Daniel remained silent for a moment before answering. “Yes, I’m almost sure.”

  “Okay, we can leave it at that.”

  “But I don’t want our sessions to end. You’re the only one I can really open up to.”

  “You’ve made good friends here, I’m sure you can speak freely to them.”

  “Doc.. .There’s something I’d like to talk to you about, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. What’s up?”

  “I’ve fallen in love with Elisabeth.”

  “Daniel, you need to tread carefully. What if you’re not free?”

  “Yes, I understand, Doc. I realize what the dangers are, but it.it’s happened to us.”

  “You mean you and Elisabeth have—”

  “No, no. We’ve acknowledged that there is some chemistry between us, that’s all. We both understand we shouldn’t give into it. Nevertheless, it’s happened. Sarah and Conrad have cautioned us, too, but we have this strong attraction to one another and it’s hard to resist.”

  Dr. Lawrence sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Well, that certainly complicates things.”

  “I’m convinced that I’m not attached to anyone, that I came here, to this part of the world to finally be happy. I’ve been searching for love, and as it turns out, I found it. Sarah saved my life, and thanks to her I found Elisabeth. My gut tells me it’s alright.”

  “Your gut, as you say, might also be telling you what you hope to hear, not necessarily the truth. How about that?”

  “Yes, I’m aware that could be the case, and it’s the reason I need to keep meeting with you, so I can speak of it, discuss it with someone other than my own muddled head.”

  The doctor crossed his arms and frowned. “It’s okay with me, but if you agree,
I’d like to consult with Dr. Baylor, a psychiatrist friend. I’m a good listener, but the affairs of the mind are honestly not my specialty. If he can guide me, I’ll be a lot more comfortable. Okay?”

  “I can’t stop you, but frankly I’m leery he might guide you into doing or saying something that could make things worse.”

  “My goodness, Daniel, that’s a very strong fear.”

  “It is, isn’t it? Could I possibly have been in a mental institution?”

  “That didn’t pop into my mind, but clearly it popped into yours. Do you have a sense of having spent time in such a place? Any images or sensations?”

  Daniel remained silent for a minute, probing the recesses of his mind. “It’s not like I was in a place. I do have a sense of being locked up. But it’s more like I locked myself up.”

  “Hmm. Describe that feeling to me.”

  His eyes darted about nervously. “It’s as if I’d erected a sort of medieval tower, brick by brick, to keep me safe, so no one and nothing could hurt me.” He finished with a deep sigh.

  Dr. Lawrence allowed him a moment to recover before intruding in his thoughts. “That’s a very clear image. How does the tower feel?”

  “Familiar. Comforting.”

  “In what way?”

  “As long as I’m inside this fortress, nothing can harm me.”

  “Can you leave at any time or are you held against your will?”

  Daniel remained silent, combing through the emotions that tied him to the fortress he’d discovered. At length, he looked up. “It’s not a jail or a mental institution. It’s more like home—a place where I can be myself without interference. A place of solace.”

  “Solace. Interesting. Why choose that word?”

  Daniel shook his head. “It’s appropriate for what I sense. This tower, these feelings, and this sense of confinement are all new to me. I’m surprised myself.”

  Dr. Lawrence scribbled a few quick notes before rising from the desk.

  “Okay, let’s stop here for tonight. I’ll come back next week, and we’ll try to move on. In the meantime start keeping a diary of all these sensations you’re experiencing. Writing them down could trigger a memory, or perhaps as we look at them, the pieces will fall into place.”

  “I’ll do that, Doc. But I need to start paying you. I’m making some money now.”

  Dr. Lawrence shook his head and smiled. “Put your money aside. Let’s not get bogged down by that. When the time comes, we’ll deal with the financial aspects of your recovery.”

  “But, Doc—”

  “Don’t ‘but Doc’ me. For an old widower like me, coming over to Elisabeth’s for a nice home-cooked meal is a treat. You are a great cook, and I’m the beneficiary of your skills. That sounds like a good exchange in my book.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  “Of course it is.” He patted Daniel’s shoulder. “No more arguing. Let’s join Elisabeth. By the way, it’s a good idea to not give into your feelings for her for the time being.”

  “We’re trying.”

  “It’s not enough to try. You must decide not to do it. It’s in your control.”

  Daniel sighed and nodded. “I will, Doc.”

  But Dr. Lawrence could spot Daniel’s reluctance. He opened the door and the two made their way to the living room. “I’ll drive you home and we’ll plan the menu for next week.. .that is if Elisabeth is willing to keep hosting these dinners every week.”

  “What are you two up to?” Elisabeth asked as she emerged from the kitchen.

  “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to keep coming once a week for these dinners and spend time with Daniel.”

  Elisabeth frowned. “He isn’t well yet? What’s wrong?”

  “He’s fine, Elisabeth,” Dr. Lawrence said, patting her cheek. “But we need to do more work on his memory, so I selfishly insisted on being treated to more of these wonderful gourmet meals.”

  “He won’t take any money, so we agreed on an ‘exchange of skills,’ as he called it,” Daniel said. “Though I’m on the winning end of that deal.”

  “Well,” Elisabeth said, “I’m delighted to have you both here. No need to drive him home either. He could stay in the guest room.”

  “Elisabeth, I’ll have to insist that you and Daniel proceed with restraint. He’s at a crucial point in his recovery and it’s best if he’s in his own room at night. You must promise me that, both of you”—and he looked them squarely in the eye before continuing—“that you will not give in to your attraction for one another. You and possibly others could get hurt if you do.”

  They nodded, but both lowered their eyes—a sign of indecision, Dr. Lawrence knew only too well.

  CHAPTER 17

  Sarah deposited the tart on the passenger-side floor of her car then climbed into the driver’s seat. She turned on the ignition just as the movie started playing.

  Unshaved and disheveled, Alexander sat on the porch steps to his cabin, a cigarette in one hand and a half-empty bottle of whiskey in the other, humming. With the cabin in total darkness only the moonlight illuminated the surroundings.

  Danny approached him with noticeable reluctance. “Hi.”

  Alexander raised the bottle in salute. “Well, hello there. Where has my best friend been?”

  “Busy.”

  “Busy. To hell with busy. Come here and give me a hug, I’ve missed you.”

  Danny perched nearby, but at a safe distance. Refusing to be denied, Alexander scooted across the step and swung his arm around Danny spilling some of the whiskey on the boy’s shirt.

  Danny pushed him away. “You’re drunk.”

  “Nah. If I were, I’d be writing or doing something creative. Listen, friend, you shouldn’t abandon me like that. I need you around. I need you so I can measure up.” He hugged the boy again, and this time Danny managed a smile as Alexander thrust the bottle at him.

  “I’ve missed you too. It’s not the same without you. But you were so mean to me—

  “Don’t hold on to the past. It stinks. It’s putrid. The past sits there, untouched, unmovable, rotting. Let bygones be bygones. Go get us some ice and glasses.”

  Danny rose and disappeared into the cabin.

  “How’s your pecker? Still in demand?” Alexander yelled over his shoulder.

  Moments later, Danny returned with a couple of glasses filled with ice. He sat by Alexander and poured the whiskey, and then set the bottle down between them.

  “You bet. I’ve got to tell you all about it,” he replied, unable to conceal his manly pride.

  “No, don’t.”

  Danny turned to him, perplexed. “But you—”

  Alexander got to his feet and stumbled toward the woods. “I hate this goddamn silence. Let’s get the fuck out of here. Let’s go to Tent City.” He staggered back to Danny, grabbed his hand, and dragged him toward the car.

  “Let’s not. You—”

  “Shut up and get in. I’ll drive.” He pushed Danny into the front seat, floundered to the other side while extricating his keys from a pocket, and got in.

  “You’re in no condition to drive.”

  “You’re not my keeper, so shut up.”

  The engine started and the headlights illuminated the forest ahead as the car lurched away in a cloud of dust.

  As the dust cleared, Tent City came into view, a barren clearing in the middle of the woods, where tents and huge awnings were set up haphazardly, giving it the appearance of a massive, rundown, disorganized circus.

  The Jeep skidded to a stop on the periphery. Alexander stumbled out of the vehicle almost before the headlights had a chance to go dark. Danny emerged apprehensively on the opposite side and frowned as his eyes scoured the surroundings. Alexander threw his arm around Danny’s shoulders and dragged him past the makeshift perimeter.

  The entire place was lit by strings of glaring white light bulbs of different sizes connected by electrical wires that hung precariously from improvised light poles. A couple
of incongruent neon signs advertising gaudy adult entertainment added a touch of strident color to the otherwise stark camp-like atmosphere. Different styles of music, all too loud, escaped from tents into the night air to mix with the smoke from countless impromptu stoves and cooking fires. Several men and a handful of women sat at lopsided tables, or stood about, laughing or eating what had issued from the improvised kitchens. Others walked dirt paths that led to various establishments.

  Women outfitted in tattered see-through negligees and racy underwear milled about most of the tents flashing artificial smiles at prospective clients as they strolled past. When Danny and Alexander staggered by, they blew kisses, wagged their tongues, or licked their lips suggestively.

  “C’mon, boys. I’ll do you both,” a woman in green lace underwear cried.

  “Hey, Bella, don’t take ’em both. Let me have the little one. Hey boy, I’ve got what you’re looking for,” yelled a large woman in a red negligee.

  Alexander trudged on without as much as a hesitation, dragging Danny with him as they lurched past the women toward a large tent with a neon sign that advertised The Blues Bonnet.

  “Best jazz ever, right there in this shithole,” Alexander yelled over the din.

  They slipped through a flap into the large tent where a giant of a man stood in a cloud of cigarette smoke.

  “That’ll be five bucks.”

  Clearly prepared, Alexander pulled a bill from his shirt pocket and handed it to the man, who gave Danny a cursory glance and then pointed them in the direction of the bar.

  Alexander yanked the boy deep into the establishment. The stench from years of dirty, drunken humanity invaded Danny’s nostrils, causing him to hold his nose.

  To one side of the tent stood a large, improvised bar backed with posters of jazz musicians and naked women pinned to the canvass of the tent. The bar hosted a small crowd of customers. Next to it, a tiny platform held a band— an albino and four African American men. The loud jazz drowned out any possibility of conversation, so those spectators who remained sober enough tapped their feet and drummed on tables, or nodded their heads to the beat.

  Dragging Danny by the arm, Alexander pushed through the crowd to the bar and sat his young companion next to him. He yelled to the bartender, “Two double whiskeys on the rocks.”