Kaleidoscope

by Chariss K. Walker

  “What’s on your mind, Magin? Anything I can help with?” I finally asked.

  “I was thinking about my life...”

  “Well, death often causes us to reflect on life. That’s normal. It forces us to realize our mortality.”

  “Yeah, it does,” Magin agreed with a hint of a smile.

  “Anything in particular that’s giving you regrets?”

  “Yeah, I wish I’d married and had a couple of kids. When I die, you’ll have to do all of this for me and there won’t be anyone to mourn me,” he replied.

  “You’re assuming that you’ll go first. What if I die first? Are you willing to come to New York and do all this for me?”

  “Oh God, Mike; now we’re talking morbid,” Magin moaned and then finally laughed before he continued, “But yes, if you die first, I’ll do all of this for you. In fact, I want to update my will now that Dad is gone. The company provides legal assistance to full-time employees, and they’ll help me when I get back to the rig. Dad was the sole beneficiary of everything I own and the life insurance policy I have through work. I was his only beneficiary, too. I should leave everything to you now since I don’t have a family. It would only create problems for Mom…”

  “I’ll do the same, Magin. You’re all the family I have, too, and not that you need my estate, but New York City sure as hell doesn’t need it either.”

  “Have you ever wondered why we all have the same middle name?” Magin asked. The remark was out of the blue and off topic completely.

  “I didn’t realize we did. Well, I knew that you and I had the same middle name. I figured both of our fathers wanted us named after their father, Grandpa James.”

  “No, it goes further back than the two of us. Think about it,” Magin continued, “Your dad was Patrick James Lewis; my dad was Henry James Lewis; you’re named Michael James Lewis and my middle name is James. Don’t you find that odd?” he asked.

  “It is odd.” I paused, looking up as if searching for answers on the ceiling. “Grandpa was called James, but I don’t know how far back it goes, do you?”

  “Well, Dad once told me that it was tradition, that as far back as his father could remember every son had ‘James’ in his name somewhere. Over the years, our family got smaller and smaller. Now, it’s you and me, and the line dies with us,” Magin said. He was keenly aware that he didn’t have a son and the tradition would die with him.

  “How did our family get smaller and smaller?”

  “For a super-smart guy you don’t think about stuff like this, do you?” Magin said and then laughed.

  “No, I really haven’t,” I shrugged, realizing that the kaleidoscope images had robbed me of more than I cared to admit.

  “Well, I guess you got your mind on scientific stuff, but while I’m doing manual labor on the rig, my mind is constantly thinking about things like this—it’s like background noise or a coffee percolator. Anyway, count it off for yourself. Grandpa James’s father was one of eight children, but only two of them were sons to keep the Lewis name going, and his brother got killed in the war. Grandpa James was one of five children, but he was the only son, so the Lewis name was passed down through only him and to our fathers. Dad and Uncle Patty both had one son each, and neither one of us has had any offspring,” Magin said humorously.

  “Magin, it’s not too late. I was born when my dad was forty-two. If you hurry, you still have time.”

  “That’s taking into account that I could find someone to settle down with, especially in the next year, old man.”

  “Yep, that’s a real problem isn’t it?”

  “What about you, Mike—don’t you want a family?”

  I told him about Casey and how I’d hoped there was something to it, that maybe she was the one. Of course, there was a lot that I couldn’t tell Magin. I kept it simple and eulogized her memory as if none of the bad stuff ever happened. I told Magin how we met, how much fun we had, and that she traveled a lot for work. I told him that I’d only known her for six weeks when she died in Marseille.

  “Man, that sucks. I’m really sorry that happened to you. Not only for what you lost, but for the way that leaves things. When something that tragic happens, it leaves you damaged and it’s even harder to try again,” Magin said.

  He didn’t ask how she died and I didn’t volunteer. We sat in silence again. I contemplated what Magin had said, but I wasn’t so sure he was right. If anything, Casey had whetted my appetite for more. Now more than ever, I desired love and a family. I wanted the real thing.

  “Have you ever been close to marriage?” I asked after a while.

  “Once.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not much to tell. I was stupid. She was wonderful and I fucked it up. There was no going back after that, and the odd thing was that I loved her more for not putting up with my crap than I did before.” He lowered his voice. “You know, I never understood that about my parents. When my mom had an affair, Dad just took it. Even when he knew with certainty, he didn’t want her to leave and refused to leave her. He would’ve done anything for her and forgiven her anything, even that. But it wasn’t that way with Beth. Hell, no! After that, she didn’t want anything else to do with me. I think Dad would’ve taken Mother back up to his dying day,” Magin said solemnly.

  “If the roles were reversed, would you have taken Beth back?”

  “We’ll never know; she’s a happily married woman with two kids now. Why?” Magin questioned.

  “I just wondered if it was an inherited trait…Something Lewis men were destined to do. Maybe we mate for life. My dad would’ve done anything for Mother too. He loved her and only her for his entire adult life. There was magic between them that was seen and felt. Maybe that’s how Henry felt about your mother. Maybe he gave her his heart and didn’t have anything left to give anyone else. Maybe that’s what you did with Beth.” I stumbled over the suppositions and then blurted out, “God, I hope that’s not what I did with Casey. I do still hope to have a wife and family one day.”

  “Then, you probably didn’t,” Magin said thoughtfully. “I think if you had, then you wouldn’t have those hopes. You’d know it was over. At least, that’s the way it was for Dad after it ended with Mother, and that’s the way it was for me after Beth. I didn’t even want to find anyone else,” he said with finality.

  The time together passed quickly by. I stopped at the funeral home to pick up the urn, hoping any guests had already paid their respects. The room was still open for visitors, and Sandy was still there sitting quietly and wiping tears from her eyes with a linen handkerchief. When she saw me, she was startled and stood quickly.

  “Aunt Sandy, are you ok?” I called out.

  “Oh, dear Lord, I thought you were Magin. Gosh, the two of you look enough alike to be brothers or twins,” she said as she studied me closely. “You’re taller, but you favor each other the same as Henry and Patrick did.”

  “I didn’t know that, truthfully, I’ve never really thought about it.”

  “Well, I guess you’re here to take the urn,” she interjected. I nodded. “Thank you, Michael, for allowing me this small comfort,” Sandy said and quickly hurried from the room without saying anything further.

  Suzanne finished the cleaning, the caterers delivered the food for the wake and Uncle Henry’s friends began to arrive to pay their respects. Most came for a short visit, shared food, and left, but one or two lingered the full two hours, sharing stories from the past. I greeted the guests and showed them to the living room where Magin waited to accept condolences. Soon, the two-hour memorial was done. I made a pot of coffee and took two cups out to the Florida room, but Magin was more interested in drinking the booze that had arrived with a few of the visitors. When I lit a cigarette, he wanted one, admitting that he sometimes smoked when he drank.

  “Magin, would you like to come back to New York with me tomorrow?” I asked, worried that he might not pull himself together after I left.

  “I
’ll be fine,” Magin replied. “You were all right after your parents died. I’m not any different, am I? We do what we have to do. I might spend some time fixing the place up a bit, make it more to my liking. I always left things alone while Dad was alive, but maybe it’s time for a change.”

  “Hell, Magin, go find yourself a woman before time really runs out,” I cajoled. We both laughed.

  “What about you? If you really want a family like you said earlier, then you need to get working on that.”

  “I have a lot to do before I can get started on that, but I haven’t given up yet,” I assured him.

  Magin was right. If I truly wanted to start a family, it didn’t only involve finding the right woman—I had to make certain my life was safe. It was the only way to insure her life was safe too.

  “I do appreciate the offer to come stay a while, but I have to talk to Dad’s attorney on Monday afternoon. Don’t get me wrong, I like your home, but as I recall you tore out the second bedroom and made an office out of it. You don’t have room for anyone to visit,” Magin said.

  “Well, I could figure out something for a friend in need.”

  I thought about how easy it would be to set up a bed on the third level of the brownstone. The attic was insulated, and even though it was still unpainted after all the years, it’d do in a pinch as additional sleeping quarters.

  “Is that what we are, Mike, friends?”

  “Of course we’re friends. We’ve been friends our entire lives,” I said.

  “We’ve known each other for our entire lives,” Magin agreed, “that much is true, but I didn’t know we were friends. We’re family and there isn’t much we wouldn’t do for each other, but there’s always been an oddness to you that keeps folks at arm’s length. I’m familiar with you, but I don’t think I really know you, Mike,” he said truthfully.

  After we’d called it a night and gone to bed, I reflected on what he’d said. There was more truth there than I wanted to admit. I’d done the same thing with family and friends that I’d done with the women in my life—I’d kept them at arm’s length. I’d held back to protect the secret. I was still doing it, but it wasn’t just for me. It protected them too, and loneliness was the price I paid to keep the secret.

  I watched the kaleidoscope vision before falling asleep. A deep freeze covered the land. New grass and spring buds were instantly covered with an ice glaze. Within minutes of that, the temperature dropped so quickly and drastically that the trees froze solid. Everything froze solid. And then, I drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I had coffee and breakfast with Magin before heading back to New York. After the rental car company dropped me off, I sat on the deck surrounded by memories of my parents and Casey’s ghost. She was in every room where we’d spent time together. The chilling memories haunted me.

  That night, I met Sensei Wakahisa at the dojo, anxious to start training. He began by teaching the same fast-hand-movements that Sensei Fukui had drilled into me during the crash course in Roussillon. The only difference was that Sensei Wakahisa was relentless. He tested me repeatedly, using improvised movements. Again and again, I repeated the patterns. It was like learning the steps of a dance. I practiced only those beginning steps until I achieved perfection.

  The movements included striking, thrusting, jabbing, and parrying. On occasion, Sensei moved forward to attack. He blocked every strike, thrust, jab, and parry I delivered. He was too fast.

  “There’re no shortcuts, Michael-san!” Sensei shouted. “I’ll tell you when you’re ready. You don’t teach, I teach! You learn correctly what I teach or not at all! You practice here,” Sensei admonished as he tapped his forehead to emphasize the importance of visualization.

  “Yes, Sensei.”

  My life was changing. I practiced the fast-hand-movements hourly and went to sleep still practicing. I was mixing things up and becoming less predictable. I took different routes to the gym and the dojo. I tried new coffeehouses and dined at different restaurants. Each course of action taken, if favored, was predictable and could be used against me.

  After Maria arrived, I walked to a new open-air coffeehouse. I wore plain clothes and soft-soled shoes. Nothing about me stood out or was noticeable. For the first time in my life, I blended into the crowd. I ordered a coffee and found a table, but as I was about to sit down a strong gust of wind blew a bit of dust into my eyes. The grit forced me to close my eyes longer than a normal blink. I saw that Maria was in trouble. As clear as day, the kaleidoscope revealed a personal vision as it had done in Marseille.

  This time, the images were less fragmented. They revealed that two men forced Maria into the living room at gunpoint. I opened my eyes and then deliberately closed them again. The scene was repeated; nothing more. I didn’t question it. I ran towards the brownstone, thankful for Sensei Fukui’s relentless jumping and vaulting exercises. I wasn’t even sure how I did it, but as I hurled myself over the top of the six-foot fence behind my brownstone, I heard Sensei bark: Don’t think; just do!

  Quiet as a mouse, I crept up the back steps, making sure to place my feet on the outer edges that led to the deck. I flattened my body against the wall and eased over to the French door so I could see into the dining area and kitchen. No one was there; no one was watching the door. I opened the door quickly and then closed it softly. I breathed a sigh of relief that Maria had silenced the alarm. She still wasn’t used to how it worked, and at this moment that was a good thing.

  The GSA Geology magazine was still on the kitchen counter where I’d left it. I picked it up and began to roll it tightly, firmly tapping in the ends as I’d seen Sensei Fukui do. Anything is a weapon. This would do. Rolled tightly, it made the perfect non-threatening, yet dangerous device. I held the makeshift baton firmly and calmed my breathing while I listened to the muted conversation of the two men coming from the living room.

  I could hear Maria quietly sobbing and praying in Spanish. I was determined to get her out of this without harm. After the danger ended, someone would have to call Joe. I opened the kitchen drawer where I kept extra business cards and found his on top of the stack. The soft-sole shoes didn’t make a sound as I walked smoothly through the entryway to where the two men held Maria hostage. I wanted to get a better view of what was going on, but I couldn’t see anything from that vantage point. I decided that surprise was the best tactic, so I entered the living room soundlessly. Maria sat on the sofa sobbing, her arms curled around her midsection. She rocked slowly back and forth, praying for deliverance from these men. The two men kept an eye on the front entrance.

  “Hello, gentlemen,” I said in a soft, cool tone. Taken by surprise, they jerked their heads around to look at me.

  “What the hell,” the larger of the two blurted out. They’d expected me to come through the front door because the back fence was inaccessible.

  “Maria, go upstairs to the bathroom and lock the door,” I continued to speak softly, never taking eyes off the two assailants. “Take the phone with you, and if I don’t come for you in a few minutes, call this number and ask for Joe.”

  Maria hurried upstairs to the bathroom. The intruders let her go while they focused on me. They didn’t relish another surprise. After the bathroom door lock clicked into place, I carefully studied the two thugs standing in my living room. One wore a name tag that read ‘Louis’ while the other one wore a tag that read ‘Mike.’

  “We weren’t going to harm her. We’d already told her we were waiting for you and that once you got home, we’d be on our way,” Louis said and then chuckled softly as he nudged his partner.

  “That was awfully nice of you, Louis,” I said.

  “Well, well,” Louis said, as he looked me over carefully. “What do you think is going to happen here, Mr. Lewis? Are you going to beat us to death with a book?” He suspiciously eyed the rolled-up magazine. Then, the two men looked at each other and chuckled at the preposterous idea.

  Now that I didn’t have to wor
ry about Maria’s safety, I gave considerable attention to both of the men, sizing them up for strengths and weaknesses. Louis, the talker, was large and beefy. The man who hadn’t said much was lean and leathery. They were most likely hired thugs, not company men, and they weren’t true professionals either. I continued to appraise them. Even though they were dressed as cable technicians, they wore street shoes. I took in everything I could about each one trying to determine who’d move first. As I did this, I edged closer using very deliberate and slow movements. Louis had a gun tucked inside his waistband and I quickly surmised that the smaller man would attack first. He was twitchy.

  “I don’t know, gentlemen. What do you suppose is going to happen here?” I replied still using a soothing, calm tone. They laughed again, feeling very much in control, but didn’t answer the question. “Who are you and what do you want?’

  “His name is Mike and my name is Louis,” the big guy responded and then the two laughed a third time, “and, we’ve come to take you peacefully or not. The choice is yours whether you want it peaceful or not.”

  “Where would you be taking me?”

  “Where isn’t important. The fact that we’re taking you is all you need to know,” Louis replied with a great deal of confidence and bravado, having already forgotten the earlier surprise.

  “Gentlemen, I don’t know if that’s going to happen,” I said.

  At this point, I was close enough to either attack or be attacked. I noticed that neither of the men seemed to feel threatened. They hadn’t even noticed my slow, steady movements. That worked to my advantage.

  “Look, man, it’s obvious he’s not going to come with us willingly. Let’s just get this over with,” the smaller man said to his partner and then leaped towards me.