by Sawyer Caine
You know that I care deeply for you, and that I want only the very best that the world can give to you. I wish that it need not be this way, but forces beyond my control have declared it so and I must let you go. Know that I will always think of you fondly, and that I will never ever forget you, my young friend. I would ask that you try to forget me, however. I fear that my influence on you was negative, and I want it to end now so that you may grow up pure. Please forgive me for any hurt that I caused you.
Sincerely,
Lord Alfred Heathwood
I sealed the letter and laid it aside, then pushed back the chair and walked over to the safe. I worked the combination and removed the treasures that were held within. I sat before the fireplace and ran my fingers over the lock of his hair that held the carved bear necklace. I looked at the photograph of him and Nekana. I touched the bead necklaces and ran my hand over the woven blankets and the wooden pipe. All of it must go as I could have no memories of him to awaken that pain once I cast it away. This was the end of it. I wanted the misery to end, and I knew no other way. The dream had been the unspoken fulfillment of that fantasy. It had ended just the way it would have done if I’d pressed for more when I’d been with him. It was the goad I needed to make me cut the tie.
“Goodbye Nekai,” I whispered as I held the necklace in my hands.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Almost a year had passed since we’d returned from the Amazon. A year since I’d heard his voice or touched his face. If I said I didn’t miss him, I lied. When I promised Frederick that I was fine, and that I didn’t need to write to him or Nekana, I was just saying the words that he wanted to hear. It was not as if I didn’t love my Frederick, it was never that. But our love had changed. Of that, I had no doubt.
Spring was upon us at Heathwood. Charles had been occupied with rejuvenating the extensive gardens and landscaping. Young Rosemarie had been busy herself, as she was now being courted by a handsome young man named Thomas, from the village. His father was a shipbuilder by trade, and Thomas seemed inclined to follow in his father’s footsteps. Rosemarie would be well taken care of, and Charles was pleased with her choice.
Frederick had been doing much better. Winter had been a bit difficult for him, and he had struggled with his cough off and on during the cold days and long dark nights. In truth, we had grown closer in that grey season. I’d relied on him to ease my pain and to keep me busy so that I would not think of Nekai. I’d received a letter from Father Dawes, asking me why I felt the need to discontinue my communication. I’d not answered him. Nekana had sent a letter to me from Caracas asking me the same question in less than pleasant terms.
I’d sent her a reply stating that I thought my communication with the boy was taking his mind off what he should be thinking of. I told her that I was having difficulty disconnecting as I should, and that Frederick was not inclined to tolerate any further continuance of it. She did not reply. I spent many nights weeping into my pillow with longing for him. I wondered if he was well, if he was happy. I thought of him every day, his memory coming to me at times unbidden, especially when I was alone.
*
I was alone on that weary day. I lay in the big bed that Frederick and I shared in my suite of rooms. A week before, we had been riding in the fields, enjoying a warm afternoon when it happened. My horse, a spirited gelding named “Midsummer Night’s Dream”, had misstepped while in a dead gallop and thrown me over the saddle. When I landed, my right leg twisted beneath me, snapping the thigh bone just above my knee. Though the doctors had set the fracture without any difficulty, they had feared that I would always walk with a limp due to the nature of the break. I might have cared in other circumstances but I had been so melancholy of late that it made no difference to me.
I was to become the lonely and perpetual bachelor I’d noticed in the cathedrals and streets of London—wealthy men of means who simply didn’t trust anyone enough to find love. Or perhaps they were like me and carried on a clandestine relationship beyond the eyes of others who might judge. Who was I to say? Frederick had been with me during my convalescence, but he’d left to go to Easter Mass with Charles and Rosemarie. I could not leave the bed without assistance, but Frederick had been kind enough to provide me with plenty of reading materials before heading off.
I found nothing in the stack of literature he’d chosen that piqued my interest. Lying on the bedside table was his big book of botany. I took it up and laid it across my lap. Within the pages of the book, Frederick had pressed the two Sobralia orchids that Nekai had procured for him. I found them together, in the middle of the volume, wrapped in tissue paper. I took them out carefully lest I damage the precious and rare flowers. Holding the black one in my hand brought back the memory of when Nekai had climbed the dangerous cliff to pick it for my love. I recalled the way he’d looked, coming down with the flower stem in his teeth.
So long I had wanted. So many days I’d dreamed of him in secret. I let the tears flow free as I grieved for my lost love. Frederick was everything that I’d ever believed I needed and wanted. He was the perfect lover, gracious and considerate and oh, so faithful. He would never leave me. He was predictable and dependable. What man who enjoyed the company of other men would not want such a lover? I knew that I did not deserve him. I’d kept up the ruse so well. Too well, in fact. Frederick often asked me if I ever thought of Nekai, and I would immediately stiffen and remind him that I did not wish that name to be mentioned in my presence. After a time, he had ceased talk about the boy at all.
The morning sun shone warm through the window as I sat with the book in my lap and remembered our adventure, our journey. I sent a silent prayer to God on that Easter morning, a day of renewal, that he take good care of Nekai, that he forgive me my sins and that he allow me to continue to have my Frederick though I was hardly the type of man to be speaking directly to God. I was surprised that He did not simply send a thunderbolt down to end me for having the gall to address the Lord of all with such a blasphemous request.
Frederick and I had argued over the personal belongings that I’d had in the vault. I left it open that morning to show him that it was empty. He believed I’d burnt them, but I had not been able to do so. I’d removed everything and taken it to the safe in my father’s old room. Frederick did not know about that safe. Neither did Charles or Rosemarie. Only Fritz and I knew of its existence. Within the vault were the important papers dealing with Heathwood and my nobility rights. Stowed there also were my treasures from the Amazon, though I honored Frederick’s will by refusing to look at them. Just knowing they were in the house was enough for me.
“You hate me now because I made you burn the gifts, don’t you?” he’d cried at me in a fit of anger.
“No, my love, I should never have accepted them. I should never have done what I did to cause you such pain. I loved you, yet I treated you as a second choice. I cannot be forgiven for that. You had every right to demand it of me.”
I had always conceded to him in matters of the heart ever since that disagreement. Frederick had changed in the Amazon, but so had I. I am told that time heals all wounds and erases all hurts, but some wounds never heal and some hurts just go too deep. I would never forget his eyes, his face, and his voice. The final correspondence I’d received a month ago from the monks had been to notify me that the Warao people had come under attack, and they had been forced to move deeper into the jungle to protect the tribe from their enemies. The monks indicated that the raftsmen no longer made trade with the tribe, and they had no means of contacting them. He was lost to me forever. Even if fate had led me back, I would have no way of finding him.
I closed the book and put it back on the table. I longed to hold the necklace he’d made for me, but I was in no shape to make the trip to my father’s room. I lay back and stared at the ceiling. I tried to call to mind my life before I’d met Frederick, before I’d known I needed the love of other men to be happy. I’d been a quiet lad, obedient and respectful. I had neve
r caused my father any grief. If he had known about my secret life, he never let on. My mother had passed before him, of the same ailment that took him from me. I’d barely known her as she had been a reclusive woman, preferring to remain aloof from the family and from her children. Fritz had been my companion, but he was ever the boisterous and adventurous young man.
I often wondered if Fritz knew about Frederick and me. I supposed he suspected it. I was certain that Charles did. Fritz wasn’t the type of brother to make accusations. He had more to do with his life. I sighed and waited for Frederick to return. The time passed quickly and soon enough, I heard voices in the hall. The door to my suite opened and Frederick came in, dressed in his best suit of clothes. I watched him close and lock the doors before coming to me. He had in his hands a basket of treats which he had brought home to me from the ladies at the church. They knew I was bedridden and thought it best if they send along some Easter cheer. I did appreciate their kind thoughts, but I didn’t feel deserving of it.
“My love, you should have heard the choir today. They sang so well. It was just lovely to hear those voices raised in praise like that. Oh, imagine what Nekai would have thought…” Frederick trailed off, suddenly aware that he’d broken the rule about using the boy’s name in front of me. “I’m sorry, Alfred,” he said, despondently. “Sometimes I forget myself. It’s just that he loved the Miserere so much.”
“I understand, love, and yes, he would have enjoyed it. I often thought that he would have loved to go to a service like that to hear the singing as it was meant to be heard. Let us not talk further about it. Tell me, were Fritz and his family in attendance?” I asked.
“Oh, yes, they are here now. Fritz is coming up to speak with you. He sent me ahead to be sure you were decent. Annalise wants to see her uncle as well.”
Frederick slipped out to fetch my family, and I poked about in the basket of candy and chocolates, noticing that one of the fine ladies had been kind enough to put in a bottle of wine. The door opened, and Fritz came lumbering in, his daughter on his arm. “Alfred, how’s the leg?” he asked as he pulled a chair up close to the bed and sat down, Annalise leaning against his shoulder.
“It’s better, not so much pain now. How are you and Imogene? Annalise is a pretty as ever,” I said, smiling fondly at my adorable niece.
“We are well. Imogene says to tell you hello, but she can’t make the stairs in her condition. The doctor told her the baby will be coming any day now, and she is trying to take life at ease. We can’t stay long, but I felt it would be amiss not to come wish my older brother a happy Easter. Tell me, Alfred, are you happy?”
His question caught me off guard, and I was not prepared to answer it. I coughed to clear my throat and buy me a few precious seconds to formulate my answer. “Fritz, why would you ask me such a thing? I am happy. Why ever would I not be?”
“Ever since you came back from the Amazon, you seem so different. It’s been a year now and I’d have thought that you would be over whatever it was that had you so despondent. Won’t you tell me why you are so sad?”
Again, I stalled but I decided to let him know the reason for it. “My dear Annalise, won’t you see if your mother needs anything? Here, take her some of the candy in this basket,” I said, holding out the basket to her. She took it from me and bowed to her father, then breezed out, closing the doors behind her. I motioned for Fritz to come closer.
“Fritz, would you do two things for me? First, find Frederick and tell him that you need to speak alone with me, and that we are not to be disturbed. When you are certain that he is out of your line of vision, go to father’s room, work the combination and bring me the items in the wooden chest that are within the vault.”
He nodded and left the room without another word. I waited for what seemed an eternity until I heard his heavy footfalls outside my door. When he entered the room, he was bearing before him the wooden crate I’d stowed the treasures in. He came to the bed and sat it carefully on the floor before locking the doors behind him.
“Inside this crate are the things that we brought from the Amazon. Frederick asked me to burn them, but I could not. Please take them out and I will tell you the reason for my grief. I ask you to bear with me as I spin my tale and hold your judgment until I am done speaking. Inside the folded leather, you will find a photograph. Please take it out and look closely at it. What do you see there?” I asked him.
He held up the picture so that he could study it and then turned to me. “I see a pair of young natives, a boy and a girl. They look like siblings. They appear to be standing in front of some kind of church. Are these the guides you spoke of?” he asked.
“Yes, they are Nekai and Nekana. She spoke English but he did not. Fritz, you know that I live differently from other men, and I have never tried to scandalize the family or anyone close to us by behaving in an untoward way. I’m sure you suspect that Frederick and I are… more than friends. Well, that young man in the picture… Fritz, I fell in love with him. Frederick tolerated it at first, but now he refuses me to have any further contact with him, no letters, I can send no gifts. The monks just recently informed me that the tribe fell under attack from their enemies and had to move deeper into the jungle. I have no way to ever find him again.”
My hands went up to cover my face and I sobbed. I’d not realized how deep the hurt was. I’d just confided my darkest secret to my younger brother, and now I had no choice but to wait for his response. He was quiet, but I felt his big hand on my shoulder as he tried to give me comfort in the only way he knew how.
“Alfred, you need to decide for yourself what it is that you want. You have only one life and you will have to make the decision how to spend it. If you love this boy and you cannot live in happiness without him, then let Frederick go and return to the Amazon. Hire a guide and search for him. Did he feel the same as you?”
I sniffed and raised my head, leaning back against the pillows with a resigned sigh. “He was not free to make that decision. He was too young. I… we… that is I tried to seduce him, but I didn’t take my advances too far. I showed him pleasure, but I did not lay with him. He was innocent in that regard when I left him. He will be the shaman of the tribe someday. When last I heard from his sister, she indicated that his father had chosen a bride for him. He is moving on with his life as well he should but I… Fritz, I cannot. God knows I’ve tried. I do love Frederick. I will always love Frederick but for some reason, I can’t get Nekai out of my head. Frederick thinks I destroyed these things, and he must go on thinking that. I’ve caused him enough pain.”
“Alfred, you are lying to yourself and Frederick if you continue to make him believe that you are over this pain.”
“I know, Fritz, but what choice do I have?” I asked.
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He said nothing further, what could he say? My fate was sealed. “He is beyond me now, Fritz. I have Frederick, and I will love him because I do love him. It’s what he deserves.”
“As you will, brother, but I would love to see you smiling again and not have it veiled with the sadness that lurks just beneath the surface.”
Fritz took my burden back to the vault and locked it in before he left with his family. I had myself composed by the time Frederick returned. Somehow, talking with Fritz had helped, though nothing had really been resolved.
*
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and months into years. I now walked with a limp and had to use a cane to cross any distance. I didn’t mind it. Frederick and I still did everything together that we had always done. I often looked at myself in the mirror. I had never been a vain man but I hadn’t failed to notice that the years were finally beginning to show on my face. I was forty-three years old. Nekai would have been around thirty-one had he survived all these years.
*
In the summer of 1949, Frederick’s health took another turn for the worse. That summer had been hot and wet, and it had wreaked havoc on his lungs. He’d spen
d the time inside, covering his cough with a handkerchief and insisting that he was fine. When autumn came, he was better. The cooler temperatures made breathing easier for him. I often thought that perhaps I ought to take him somewhere nicer like the American West, where it was said people went to take the good air. Frederick would have none of it. I wanted him to go home. I offered to go with him, but he refused.
“London is my home now Alfred, and I don’t want to go back.”
I had given in to him. What else could I do? Annalise had married and moved north to Scotland. She was a happy mother of her own with sweet little twins, Jonathan and Jane. They looked much like her. Rosemarie and Thomas came to visit Charles, bringing their brood along. Charles had suffered a small stroke that left the right side of his body somewhat stiff. He would grouch if anyone tried to help him, and he still managed to do most everything he’d always done. Life went on at Heathwood. I had gone on as well. It had been fifteen years since I’d allowed myself to think of Nekai or say his name. I’d put it behind me.
The years had been good to me and to Frederick. Consumption took thousands of lives every year, but God had answered my prayers in allowing me to keep Frederick. I knew, however, as I sat with him that afternoon, that it would be his last winter. He’d asked me to read to him, and I’d chosen one of his favorite books. We were in mid-chapter when he suddenly reached out and took my hand in his.
“Love, when I’m gone, I want you to do something for me, please.”
I took off my spectacles and squeezed his hand. “Frederick, don’t speak of such things,” I chided him.
“Listen to me. I need your word that you will do as I ask!” he insisted. “You have been more than kind to me all these years since. You stayed with me when I know it was another’s touch you wanted. You loved me with all your will and you gave of yourself to me, sacrificing your own happiness to ensure that I would not be alone. You will never know what that meant to me. I am leaving you now, and I want to be assured that you will not be alone. Promise me, promise me and mean the words when you speak them. The day you lay me to rest in the tomb, promise me that you will seek him out. You will leave here, go back there and you will find him, your wild, native prince. He is still there, waiting for you, my love, in that jungle. Go back and love him the way you wanted to do when we were younger men. He will be a man now, and nothing will be in the way of it. Promise me that you will go to him and forgive me, for driving you away from him all those years ago. It was jealousy and insecurity that got the best of me when you might have enjoyed his friendship all this time. Please, please promise me…” He fell into a fit of coughing, blood staining the handkerchief.