Secrets of Innocence

by V.

  “Williams found Alexander’s estate, Rainbow. He asked that we meet there tomorrow.”

  “Did he say if they found something helpful?”

  “No. He asked that both of us be there. He insisted I come, too.”

  “Oh?”

  “Says you’ll need me at your side.”

  “Stehekin—The Way Through,” Daniel said pensively.

  “Interesting name, isn’t it?” Elisabeth whispered as she admired their surroundings.

  She had picked up Daniel early Sunday morning and taken him to the dock of the Lady of the Lake ship in Lake Chelan. They were now cruising on their way back from Stehekin.

  “Can you imagine what the Native American tribes must’ve endured when they traveled by foot or canoe through the Cascades? No wonder they named it The Way Through once they got there. They were relieved to survive it,” Elisabeth said.

  “It’s hard to imagine, considering that even now the only way to reach this remote community is by water, floatplane, or hiking over those same mountain trails. Makes their achievement that much more remarkable.”

  “And makes the place even more special.”

  “I couldn’t live there, though. They need boats and barges to bring them everything from groceries and supplies, to cars, equipment, building materials, and even us tourists.”

  “That’s probably why there are less than a hundred year-round residents.”

  “A smaller than small community where no secrets would be safe.”

  “Secrets?” Elisabeth asked with a puzzled look.

  “Did you notice the houses?” Daniel asked her. “They stand there, side by side, unapproachable, concealing their inhabitants, screening them from outside curiosity.. .and from each other. This idyllic landscape with its spattering of cute hillside homes is a faqade. The worst secrets are always hidden away in ordinary, ideal-looking houses.”

  “My goodness Daniel, that’s quite chilling.”

  “Maybe it’s me. Maybe my feelings have nothing to do with the scenery but more to do with whatever darkness populates my lost memories.”

  Elisabeth turned to him. “Could you be trying to forget people in your life?” Despite the wind blowing her hair over her face, the concerned look in her eyes was clear.

  “Don’t you start analyzing me. I have enough with Doc scratching away inside my head.”

  “It was an odd thing to say, that’s all.” She turned away to face the wind, her hair now flowing nicely behind her.

  Daniel remained silent for a while and then gently placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. For some reason this place unsettled me. Nevertheless, as much as I complained about you whisking me away at dawn, I do appreciate that we’re here together now.”

  “It’s about time. I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal about us being alone. We’re surrounded by people, look around you.”

  “It’s not the people. It’s us and what we might do.” Daniel removed his hand from her shoulder causing her to turn toward him again.

  She pushed her hair away and took Daniel’s hand. “We don’t have to hold back. I’m willing to take the risk.”

  Daniel gently freed his hand. “I’m not sure I am.” He turned and headed toward the stern.

  Elisabeth watched him walk away. She turned to face the wind and little by little it whisked away her tears.

  They remained separate from each other until Daniel forced himself to return and face her. This time the wind swirled around his hair, but the effect was entirely different—it endowed him with an aura of splendor.

  “Please don’t be angry with me,” he said. “I can’t—”

  “We’re not children, Daniel. We understand what we’re getting into. If we’re willing to live with the consequences, whose business is it what we do or don’t do?”

  “The business of the people we might hurt.”

  “What if there’s no one?”

  “Once we find out, we’ll decide what to do.”

  “In the meantime—”

  “We wait.”

  She tilted her head. “You’re acting as if something has happened. Did you remember something.. .or someone?”

  “No.”

  “Then, what is it?”

  “I need to be certain of my feelings for you.”

  She paled. Her eyes erupted with tears, betraying her efforts to appear calm and collected.

  “Please, Elisabeth, don’t—”

  This time, she walked away from him.

  CHAPTER 21

  After dinner, Dr. Lawrence sat with Daniel in Elisabeth’s study. “Well,” he leaned back in the desk chair, “I’m so full I’m not sure I’ll be of much use to you tonight. That was some meal. Where do you suppose you learned to cook so well? The lamb was delicious, the roasted potatoes were perfect, and those tartelettes.. .the third one did me in.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” Daniel said. “We had a good time preparing h”

  He nodded. “Too much I’d say. That, coupled with your escapade to Stehekin—”

  “I get it, Doc,” Daniel interrupted. “Next week, dinner will be at the Thompson’s—no doubt your idea to make sure we aren’t alone in the kitchen. Just like you showing up early tonight to keep an eye on us. I’ve got your number, Doc.”

  Dr. Lawrence blushed a bit and smiled. “Well, it’s easier that way, wouldn’t you say?”

  Daniel remained motionless.

  “So,” the doctor forged on, “where could your culinary expertise come from?”

  “I have no idea where or how I learned. And yet, as we were fixing dinner, I got the impression that I may indeed have lived in Europe, perhaps even in Latin America and Asia.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “The familiarity of the foods, the recipes that pop in into my head, my ability to communicate in French, Spanish, and Italian, and a smattering of Mandarin, Thai, and even Japanese. It all indicates that I lived in those places, spent some time there.”

  “Elisabeth said she’d been showing you photos of faraway lands. What do you experience when you look at them?”

  “An old, comfortable feeling. The kind I experience going into my little room above Conrad’s store. A safe haven.”

  “Elisabeth might be right. You may have been a chef in many parts of the world.”

  Daniel shrugged. “Perhaps.”

  “Something’s going on. What is it? What’s bothering you?”

  “I’m so tired of this uncertainty. I’m like a ship lost at sea, going nowhere, accomplishing nothing. I trudge along, day in and day out, without purpose or direction.”

  “We all understand your frustration. But time is your best ally. Considering your injuries, you’re lucky to even be alive.”

  “I’m a grown man, Doc, and here I am working at a job that a teenager would do during the summer, mooching off the kindness of folks. I’m tired of it all.”

  “Maybe that’s a good sign. Perhaps this uneasiness will push your mind.” “What if I don’t wish to remember?”

  Dr. Lawrence leaned forward and peered at Daniel over his glasses. “What are you saying?”

  “What if I’m running away from something, or someone and I don’t wish to remember? What if I broke a promise, or let someone down, or did something awful and can’t deal with it?”

  “Daniel, have you uncovered something?”

  “No.” Daniel rose and turned his back to him. His voice dropped to a whisper. “But I’d rather not find out what I did if it means that I can’t be with Elisabeth for the rest of my life.”

  Dr. Lawrence leaned back on the chair. “Ah. Elisabeth—she’s what’s bothering you.”

  Daniel turned back and glared at Dr. Lawrence. “Yes, Elisabeth. I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop myself, and that makes me sick.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “I hate it when people lose control. I hate the idea that I might lose control, and yet I’m this close to
doing exactly that with her.”

  The doctor rose slowly. He came around the desk to Daniel, placing his hand on his shoulder. “Come back and sit down. Please. Let’s talk about this.” He nudged him toward the chair in front of the desk. He dragged the other chair close and rested his hands on Daniel’s knees. “Now, listen to me very carefully, Daniel. You’re making tremendous progress in retrieving emotions, if not specific memories. You sensed your dislike for psychiatrists, you’re pretty sure that you don’t like people who lose control, you’ve guessed that you’ve traveled the world, you speak several languages, and you’re certainly at ease in a kitchen. That’s a hell of a lot of progress by any measure.”

  “But other than the languages, the rest are mere impressions, nothing concrete. The only solid thing right now is my love for Elisabeth, and that’s the one thing I can’t act on for fear of the unknown. I can’t take it, Doc.” He slammed his fist on the desk.

  “I get that, but each time we chat you discover more about who you are and what you like or dislike. Your true personality is emerging little by little.” “But without any tangibles, what good will that do?”

  “Have you been writing like I asked you?”

  “I tried, but I couldn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “I felt as if I shouldn’t.”

  Dr. Lawrence sat back. “That’s odd. Why shouldn’t you?”

  Daniel shook his head. “I wish I had an answer, but the truth is that I simply can’t.”

  “Have you ever written in a diary before?”

  Daniel looked up, seemingly searching for the answer. “I doubt it. The concept of writing feels uncomfortable. It feels like suffering. It feels like it might steal my soul.” He sighed. “On the other hand, maybe that means that I have written and couldn’t handle the outcome.”

  The doctor moved back behind the desk to jot down a few notes in Daniel’s chart.

  “What did your friend the psychiatrist have to say?” Daniel asked, his tone disdainful.

  Dr. Lawrence stopped writing and looked up at his patient. “Ah, I wondered when you’d ask me that. Well, I’m not going to tell you. Given that you chose not to go to him, I’ve decided to apply his suggestions without letting on if what I am doing is my idea or his.”

  “I don’t care as long as you keep meeting with me and tolerating all my crap. Although I would prefer that you didn’t write in that chart of yours.”

  “Is that so? Why?”

  “I detest the idea that there is a chart about me, over which I have no control that reflects the terrible things I’ve been through for anyone to read.” “Interesting,” he said as he wrote a few more notes.

  “Now you’re sounding like a psychiatrist.”

  “I am, aren’t I? Forgive me. But I promise you no one will have access to this chart but me. Now, let’s go back to why you won’t write.”

  “Fine with me, but I can’t come up with anything else to tell you.”

  “Have you ever been criticized for something you wrote?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Was someone you knew criticized in a way that hurt him or her?” Daniel scowled. “Mm, maybe. That notion struck a chord.”

  “Good. What can you tell me about that?”

  Daniel remained silent for a long time, once more seeming to search for something, but then shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “Well, mull it over until we meet next time. All I ask is for you to be as patient as you are with Elisabeth when you’re teaching her. She’s a handful in that kitchen, by the way.”

  A heartfelt smile traced across Daniel’s lips. “Yes, she’s a bit of a challenge, always has to do it her way. But the fact is that her way has turned out to be pretty good at times. Better than what I could come up with. She takes good care of me, keeps me busy so that I don’t get depressed about all the bad stuff.” “That’s good, but you must keep your physical distance from one another.” “Alright, alright,” Daniel said impatiently.

  “That’s why we insist on being around you. It makes it easier.”

  “Easier?”

  “For you to keep your hands off each other when I or the Thompsons are around.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Not that it stopped you from holding her hand to help her cut the onion, or caressing her bare shoulder when you congratulated her on how she made the little tart shells all by herself.”

  Daniel couldn’t hide a smile. “Nothing escapes you, does it?”

  “You’re playing with fire.”

  “You and the Thompsons keep beating that into me. But I find comfort in my feelings.”

  “Are you referring to the feeling of doing what you shouldn’t, or your love for Elisabeth?”

  “Both.”

  “Then here’s something else for you to ponder. Is your love for Elisabeth real or simply a desire for forbidden fruit?”

  Daniel frowned. “You’re good, Doc. To be honest, at this moment I don’t have a clue how to answer that question.”

  “Then you better give it some serious consideration so you don’t succumb to what you desire, rather than true love.”

  “Boy, that’s a challenge I don’t look forward to.”

  “Will you do it?”

  Daniel stared across the desk at the doctor. “We’ll find out next time we meet, won’t we?”

  CHAPTER 22

  “I’m intrigued as to what we are going to find in Alexander’s place,” Conrad said as he drove through the mountain pass, “and why Sheriff Williams insisted that I come. He must’ve found something that might affect you. What do you think?”

  Sarah stared out the window.

  “Sarah?” He glanced at this wife. “Alexander’s whisked you away. It better be good.”

  As Danny approached Alexander’s cabin, the clicking sound of the typewriter reached his ears. He stopped, fearful that Alexander may have sought inspiration in bourbon once again. The moonlight lit his face as he circled the cabin a couple of times.

  He peeked through the open window to find Alexander typing away, no sign of a bottle or a glass on the table.

  Alexander spotted Danny, stopped typing, and smiled. “Danny boy! Come in.”

  “Are you sober?”

  “What are you, my nanny?”

  “I don’t care much for you when you’re drunk, that’s all.”

  “Hey, we’ve been drunk together before, you didn’t mind then.”

  “Not that kind of drunk. The other kind.”

  “Ah, you mean the satiation for inspiration kind.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, for your information, I haven’t had a sip for days.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Alexander shot to his feet causing his chair to flip over onto the floor, and stomped to the window. Nose to nose with the boy, he blew right onto his face. “Now you believe me?”

  Danny recoiled. “Ugh, you have bad breath.”

  “Yeah, but no alcohol.”

  Danny smiled. “So what are you up to?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’m writing. And painting. Look.” He pointed across the room. “I finished your portrait. What do you think?”

  Danny leaned through the window to get a good view. What he saw stunned him. The portrait, though far from being a realistic rendering, was unmistakably him. Alexander had completely redone the style so it conformed to his perception of the boy, with broad strokes that gave him an air of soulful mischief and inner strength.

  “Wow! That’s amazing!”

  “Yeah, I do portraits okay. It’s the writing that’s shit.”

  “It’s not. Look at Rainbow.”

  “Forget that one. I’m writing a new one.”

  “Great! What’s it about?”

  Alexander leaned against the windowsill. “It’s quite simple, really. It used to be a father-and-son story, but now it’s a story about two friends, which is what it was meant to be all along. Only I didn’t figure it out, u
ntil the other night.” He placed a hand gently on the boy’s shoulder. “Listen, Danny, I’m sorry I put you through hell. Is that why you haven’t come by to visit me, or have you been busy with the Mrs. or Ellie?”

  He shook his head. “Neither. I’m sick of women.”

  “Nonsense. You’re too young for that.”

  “Listen, I won’t disturb you if you’re inspired. I’ll come back in the morning.”

  “Don’t put me off. C’mon, let’s go skinny dipping and you tell me what’s worrying you.”

  “But—”

  Alexander burst out of the cabin and pranced toward the lake, shedding his clothes along the way.

  Danny rushed after him through the woods picking up the discarded clothes. By the time he reached the shore, Alexander stood waist deep in the water splashing about.

  “C’mon on, buddy.”

  Danny undressed and swam toward his friend. “This reminds me of the night we met.”

  “Indeed. The best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “I mean it. You’ve become my inspiration, my muse.”

  “What’s gotten into you? Are you going to start acting weird again?” Alexander approached Danny and grabbed him by the back of the neck, looking him sternly in the eye. “You need to listen. And you must believe me, because I don’t do serious often, and I have to be serious for a moment. Got it?”

  Danny nodded and tried to break the hold, but Alexander held fast.

  “You have a purity that I crave and an honesty I envy. In my stupidity I almost spoiled that the other night, but you protected it. However, I managed to get a taste of it, enough to cleanse my soul—well, maybe not totally, but as much cleansing as it could tolerate. Thank you for that.” With a smile he released the boy’s neck, and ruffled his hair.

  “Does that mean your soul doesn’t need to run away any more?” Alexander laughed. “You do listen to my shit, God help you. Yes, my friend, for now my soul is quite content. It won’t last long, though. Inevitably, I’ll find a way to screw it up. I always do. There, I’m done being serious. Your turn—what’s bothering you?”

  “Mrs. Foster is toying with me and Ellie.”