by Alona Jarden
My mother always tried to figure out the power Katarina had over me and my father claimed that if he caught me there again, he would nail the frame of my bedroom window into its place. But, in fact, they did nothing. To tell the truth, when I think back on those days, they probably knew about our many encounters, certainly when considering most of my sneaking back attempts were accompanied with the dropping of loud furniture and other objects. I could only assume they turned a blind eye, understanding that the friendship between me and Katarina was the only bright spot in the difficult life of poverty we lived in Costa Rica.
I never knew why I was attracted to the study of psychology. Not until three years ago, when I found myself once again in front of her beautiful eyes. This time, they were displayed on a large projection screen.
"As I said before, in order to help you build a psychological profile for medical students, I asked one of the top students in my class to try and explain her motives, versus that of her contemporaries, in investing in her studies." Professor Thompson, who had come from the United States to my Costa Rican college, turned his head to the screen and, with a casual click, swiped to the next slide.
Katarina's picture appeared in the right-hand corner of the big screen, above her a detailed list of conclusions for the various motivational factors facing students in the demanding medical field of study.
"I present to you the conclusions of Ms. Kate Briggs," he stated as her eyes took my breath away.
"I was actually interested in hearing the contrary list to the one you chose to present," Ricardo, my best friend, raised his hand, but immediately asked without waiting to be given the right to speak.
"What's your name?" the professor turned to him.
"Ricardo."
"Well, Ricardo, what list would you have liked me to introduce?"
"I think this list is as expected. I mean, the motives for success in medical studies are clear. There's the title, the human urge to succeed in the tasks, the money, etc. I would actually be interested in the motives for dropping out of medical studies."
"Well this list was made by Ms. Briggs, and you're not going to get a list like that from her," he chuckled. "She would probably say that only stupid people who shouldn’t have enrolled in medical school in the first place drop out."
Professor Thompson continued to argue with Ricardo for a few minutes. Ricardo claimed one thing and the professor claimed something else and I just couldn’t take my eyes away from Ms. Kate Briggs' picture.
I looked into her hazel eyes, studied her beautiful features, carefully read her conclusions, and I knew with certainty that I finally found my Katarina.
"I would like to know the socio-economic background of Ms. Kate Briggs," I didn’t raise my hand as well.
"Who asked that?" Professor Thompson's tone of speech grew serious and he looked away from Ricardo.
"I did." I wondered if I should have smiled or prepared myself for his burning glare due to my stupid question, as he had done with Ricardo, but continued anyway. "My name is Andrew."
"Well, Andrew, congratulations. You're the only one who asked the question that needed to be asked."
"Thanks," I smiled.
"Could you please tell everyone why you chose to ask this question? Why aren’t you interested in Ms. Briggs' conclusions or her arguments about the driving forces behind medical students?"
"All of those might be irrelevant if she didn’t, herself, encounter the difficulties and challenges that her test subjects encountered. Her list of motivations may have been different from that of another student if her socio-economic status was different from the subject’s."
"Excellent!" The professor raised his voice and pointed to me, "Andrew is right. Ms. Briggs has given us her opinion and not only does it reflect her socio-economic status, but it also reflects the opinion of one of the smartest students I know. Can anyone else explain to us why that affects the list?" he asked and the conversation developed between him and the other students.
I no longer took part in it. All I could do was focus on her image, marvel at her beautiful eyes, and thank God for creating the coincidence that changed my life.
At first, it had been hard to believe that my search for Katarina was over. I’d spent hours and days scanning faces I didn’t recognize on social networks, dating sites and other database search results, without finding a single thread to her whereabouts. That was all far behind me.
The little girl that left my life screaming for me to save her had grown up to be an extraordinary woman, both in her beauty and her tenacity and I wasn’t at all surprised she was on her way to fulfilling her dream of becoming a doctor.
The lecture with Professor Thompson was the driving force that led me to finish my degree with honors. Moreover, it encouraged me to delve deeper into the study of abducting psychology, the theory of planting memories and all different methods of hypnosis treatments, until I finally specialized in guided imagery.
Perhaps, that was also the reason I was never interested in a long-term relationship, and certainly not during my studies, when I refused endless offers from the girls on campus.
I guess that once I knew where she was, I couldn’t even think about being involved with anyone else. Especially after knowing that our meeting was only a matter of time.
"You're Professor Thompson, right?" I showed up at the auditorium he taught in in the United States about two hours after I knew he had finished lecturing for the day and about two years since I had last seen him.
"Yes, how can I help you?" He stared at me, not linking my face to the student who had impressed him years earlier in another country.
"I'm looking for one of your students."
"And you thought I could help you? Go out and look for her."
"How did you know it was a girl?"
"Oh, please," he rolled his eyes at me.
"You do not understand, Professor... I... I'm ashamed to initiate a conversation with her." I pretended to be just an excited, foolish student on campus. "I thought I might ask you a few questions about her so I'd know if there was any chance she would like me."
"Which student are we talking about?" He folded his arms and wrinkled his forehead as he leaned against the table behind him.
"I'm talking about Kate. Kate Briggs."
"Yes, I can help you. She will not like you." A malicious smile stretched across his face as he waved his hand at me dismissively and turned away.
That day, I couldn’t get any information from him. In fact, he almost called campus security on me when I insisted on continuing to ask where she lived and who her friends were. I soon realized that my salvation wouldn’t come from him and stepped away, so that my face would not be etched in his memory.
As a last resort, I’d followed her.
In my defense, she hadn’t made the task very difficult, carrying on with a terrible irresponsibility. It was surprising to see her so unguarded. I expected her to behave in a completely different manner, given that she had experienced an abduction trauma in the past.
Every morning she left her house at exactly the same time and walked alone on a long, almost deserted, dirt track. She always sat at the same table, at the same Starbucks, at the same time and met the same classmate. At the end of each day they walked the same way back and forth to the medical school and I envied him.
"Excuse me," I turned to him at my first opportunity to have a private conversation with him. "You're Aidan, aren’t you? Kate Briggs' boyfriend?"
"Who's asking?" He looked down at me, as he was a few inches taller, and a few wider, than me.
"I..." I wondered which approach would be the right one to take, considering the psychological profile I'd managed to build for him. "Look, I'm not looking for trouble," I raised my hands in a gesture of submission.
"Then tell me who you are and I'll tell you if trouble is looking for you." The crossing of his arms emphasized the size of his muscles and I swallowed hard.
"I'm Jonathan and I... I'm interested in Kate.
"
"Interested in what way?"
"Romantically," I said, continuing as his eyes widened in astonishment. "But I won’t do anything about it if you say that you... If she is... I mean, if she belongs to you."
"Kate Briggs doesn’t belong to anyone." He burst out laughing, right in my face. "And if I may say so, even from this short conversation, I can safely conclude that there is no chance in hell Kate will be interested in a guy like you."
"So you're a couple?" I ignored the fact that, within just a few days of my arrival in the United States, two people from her close social circle had declared she wouldn’t be interested in knowing me.
"Yes, loser," he snorted. "We're together, but that's not the reason you don’t have a chance with her."
"So what is the reason that she..." I stopped talking mid-sentence, as he had lost interest in me, turned around leaving me there.
I was actually relieved that conversation had been so superficial. I’d hoped it was meaningless enough for him not to remember my facial features or that it had even taken place. It was important that my meetings with both him and Professor Thompson didn’t become a warning flag for either of them in the future. I was even happier that Aidan proved his limited mental abilities and disappointing memory six months later, when he greeted me at Starbucks as a stranger. He simply took his coffee cup from me, his barista, and never recognized me.
The more I studied about her, the more I realized that I couldn’t make casual contact with Kate as I had with those around her. I knew that I had to build a special relationship with her. One that wouldn’t be too significant, but would intrigue her enough to develop into something she would remember.
That's how I decided to take on the role of barista in the Starbucks after having already attained my master's degree in psychology. I did it just so that the day after I started working there, Katarina would come in, as expected, give me her regular order and then the real game would begin.
And so it was. Katarina arrived, I handed her a regular coffee order and not only did the game begin, it had been going on between us since then without her knowledge. But not anymore.
One glance at her closed eyes sent me back in time, but a chill breeze from the forest brought me back to the reality I was facing.
She slept on her chair on the porch and the blanket I had brought to cover her was still in my hand. Another cold, early morning gust of wind made me wonder if it would be better to swing her in my arms and put her to sleep in her bed, but I was afraid she would see it as an agreement breach.
She had defined limits for our touch, yet I wondered if an exception to those boundaries would actually help her understand that the distance between us could, and should, be eliminated.
I took a deep breath before allowing myself to break the stages of my meticulous plan again and lifted her in my arms.
"Hmm," she moaned slightly, as I rested her head softly on the pillow and sat motionless beside her, looking at the curves of her shapely body.
I was all but disappointed by the amazing woman she had grown up to be. I was thrilled, excited but, also, a little hurt by when she claimed I had grown up differently from what she had imagined.
Her closed eyes rested calmly and her sleep was unbroken. I smoothed the backs of my fingers against her cheeks and, as if it was commonplace to me, I leaned over and kissed her lips.
"I loved you when I was five, I love you now, and I will love you when you're fifty, Katarina. You were and you are the love of my life."
Chapter 15
Kate
I woke up as soon as he picked me from the chair, but I didn’t dare open my eyes. The heat of his palms touching me sent a shiver of desire all over my body. Chills I had never experienced pierced my soul and I kept myself in the dark, afraid his touch would go away too soon.
I'd always thought relationships were a waste of time.
My father explained to me that youthful love was an unnecessary experience that never ended with marriage or a family, at least not a planned one.
"Trust me, Kate, before young love reaches its bitter and unavoidable end, it exacts a heavy price. It will take hours of crying and quarrels, and will leave both sides damaged and scarred for the future."
"But I loved him," I cried bitterly after a separation I had experienced at the age of sixteen. It was my first and, after that conversation with my father and those that followed it, was also my last heart break.
From that day on, I had no longer wanted to waste precious time, which could be directed to studies or enrichment, on a relationship that would lead nowhere. I agreed with my father when he claimed that I would be better off investing in my romantic life after my bachelor's degree, but I had never found the time.
Maybe that's why Andrew's touch on my body was so significant for me. It was the first time a man had swept me off my feet, and although my first instinct was to open my eyes and show strength, I relaxed my muscles, pretended to be asleep, and let him rest me gently in my bed.
"Hmm," I moaned on purpose and turned on my side to let him know that my sleep was easily disturbed, but a gentle flutter of his fingers on my cheek made me freeze and caused my heart to skip a bit.
The door closed behind him and the words he’d whispered before he left echoed with great force in my head.
We’d teased each other when he was the barista in my regular Starbucks, when we were kids and when he was my kidnapper, but we had each delta with the situation differently.
I rolled over onto my back and tried to put myself in his shoes. I tried to imagine how it must have felt for him when the love of his life showed up every morning, took a cup of coffee off his hands and tried to guess his name, having no memory of the deep friendship we’d shared.
I suddenly was filled with sadness and guilt knowing that I had hurt him so.
I don’t remember how long I laid there, caressing the place where his fingers slipped and where I felt his lips on mine. I was pleased that I had acted with restraint and happy to be so pleasantly touched.
Not much after, I succumbed to the cumulative fatigue that struck me and fell sound asleep.
"Wow!" I was taken by the meticulous setting of the breakfast table waiting for me in the dining room when I awoke the following morning. "Watch out, Andrew, I might get used to waking up like this."
"You mean waking up from a nightmare-free sleep?"
"That, I'm actually prepared to get used to." I smiled in embarrassment.
"Come on, join me. You slept late and we don’t have much time."
"Why are you in a hurry? Do you have some other girl to kidnap?"
"No," he chuckled. "In a few minutes I have to go to my shift at work."
"I don’t get it. Why would you continue this show? Didn’t you say that you got the job just to get my attention?"
"I did," his smile made me blush. "And now that I have your full and undivided attention, I don’t want to attract the attention of the authorities due to my absence from work. Not yet. It's too soon."
"Well that sounds about right," I sat down in the chair he pulled out for me. "Your precious plan right? You haven’t completed the important steps yet, have you?"
"Right. Not yet." He sat next to me, "but I promise you'll know more soon."
That morning we talked about everything except what I wanted to talk about. I asked about his parents, his family, his life, and he didn’t spare any words, telling me in detail about himself. I told him about my father, my friends and my studies, even though he hadn’t asked, and I tried as hard as I could not to ask questions I knew he wouldn’t provide answer to.
"So when are you leaving for work?"
"After we finish cleaning up."
"I'll do it. It's okay, you can go."
"Absolutely not." He stood up and began clearing the dishes. "I don’t even want you to help me." He gestured toward the chair and demanded that I stay where I was and I did.
The time I spent with him in that cabin was d
ifferent from anything else I had known, and not only because I had been taken there by force.
That morning, after I had received his permission and the opportunity to go in and out as I pleased, I felt that I was breathing deeper than ever before in my life.
"Aren’t you worried I won’t be here when you come back?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you don’t need me in order to know that you have a path to take, but you do need me to show you the safe places to step."
"That being said, I feel that my memories only raise new questions, and at this rate I will always have more questions than answers."
"I'm not sure about that." He seemed very confident in himself.
"And I am, Andrew. I don’t think I'll be able to see the full picture in two weeks."
"You already do, Kate. You're just too excited to realize you're seeing it."
"And you're full of shit. You're just too dumb to understand that you're talking nonsense." I made both of us laugh and sent him to get ready for his day at Starbucks.
When he came out of his room, he was back to being Steve, or Adam or John, and I remembered how, even then, when I hadn’t known his name, he was someone I thought had kind eyes.
"Do you want me to show you how effective my plan is?" he asked, making me walk closer to him.
"Happily."
"It's so effective that you don’t feel like it's working, but it is. To prove it, I'll repeat a test I performed just three days ago."
"A test?" I frowned.
"Yes. Do you remember the ten questions I asked you? The ones you were supposed to answer quickly and without thinking too much?"
"I remember a million questions you’ve asked me since I got here, many of which have not demanded much thought from me."
"If you're so smart, will you let me ask them again?"
"Is that part of your treatment plan?"
"No. I just made it up, but the results intrigue me."
"Then ask me, Andrew," I smiled.