Vanessa

by David Howells

Chapter 9 – RELEASE

  Ryan continued narrating in the present time, while his mind saw the whole thing live and in person once more...

  The room was about the same size as the one at Barnes, but there was only one bed and the accommodations were plush. A competent, well-paid private nurse left the room as instructed. John and Ryan felt like spectators. It was up to Mary and Vanessa now, both feeling a loved one’s instinctual need to protect them. It was worse for John. This path would cost him even visual contact with his Mary. Even though he felt fully responsible for this cataclysm afflicting his whole (no longer) family, he still remained to support Mary. Vanessa and Mary both requested that neither man speak to them, as it could be distracting. They were going on instinct, or perhaps on guidance from somewhere else. Neither knew for sure.

  Mary trusted Vanessa without question, both helping and frightening Vanessa at the same time. Fear of failing a friend when so much was at stake put pressure on her that nothing else could measure up to. Ryan quietly talked to John and told him what he could observe.

  “Mary’s spirit is lying down, returning to the body (don’t call it ‘her’ body). Vanessa is walking to the other side of the bed and she’s reaching out, positioning her hands about a foot above Mary’s, I mean, Mary.

  “Vanessa is getting up on the bed and laying herself into the body. I can still see the body, Mary’s spirit and Vanessa, like a triple exposed picture. Nothing is changing now, they’re just lying there.”

  Ryan glanced at his watch. There was no change that he could see, but he wasn’t really sure as to what to look for. Feeling a need to unload a little of the pressure inside of him, John spoke in whispers about the times that he treasured with Mary: their first meeting, first date, where he proposed, and the births of their children. John then stopped, not daring to go any further. Twenty-three minutes elapsed before Ryan noticed something different, but couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

  “Wait a minute. I can’t see any of Mary’s or Vanessa’s toes, er, spirit toes that is (Mary was covered with a half sheet over her mid section, and nothing else besides a hospital diaper. The room was kept warmer than usual to allow John and Ryan to watch for changes, which Mary and Vanessa agreed was alright to do). He looked at what was now a very thin blue-white anklet on both sides edging its way slowly headward.

  “John, it’s kind of a fusing or knitting process. Wherever the band passes I can’t see any spiritual outline anymore.”

  John stared as well and was able to see something. “Ryan, I think I can see it. To me it’s a small band of redness, ruddiness. Is what you see just at the ankles?”

  “No, the blue-white band is further up. I can see differently than you can, so it must be another part of the process, but I can see the band you’re talking about. It must have something to do with the vascular system, maybe an after-reaction to the fusion?”

  There wasn’t anything more to comment on until, “The fingers, John. She’s started at the fingers. The band has started there, it’s up to the wrist and you can see that reddening starting at the fingertips. It’s the same process the legs went through.”

  It helped to keep their thoughts busy with the process and not the significance. The sheet that reflected the respect for privacy by the two men for each other’s loved one also hid the progress in those areas to John. Ryan, however, could see the blue-white band progress along the upper thighs and torso, shining through the sheet. It was another half an hour before the band only Ryan could see began to make its way up the neck and across the face, followed by reddening reaction.

  It was done, whatever ‘it’ was. Twelve more minutes crawled by. “John, I’m seeing something change. There’s a glowing all over Mary. No, it’s dying away. Now there’s nothing as far as I can see.” A consolidation? A changing of the guard?

  Ryan looked again. Did he need glasses? It was like he was looking at one of those 3-D pictures without the glasses that made the picture take on depth. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. It was worse, or more pronounced, rather. John caught the look of confusion. “Ryan?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s like I can’t focus on Mary, like I’m seeing double. John, I think Mary’s coming out. Wait. What did Mary wear when she died?”

  That was a rather personal question, but nothing was sensed as inappropriate in the asking. “A hospital gown, as far as I know. Why?” It was getting harder to keep the clinical tone of voice.

  “When she went there, to her surgery appointment, was she wearing a pleated green skirt to her mid-calves with a lighter shade of green, short-sleeved shirt?”

  John had to think for a moment. “Yes, I think so. She does have an outfit like that.”

  Ryan thought. Most of the entities he had come across presented themselves with apparel they wore when they died. If that were to be consistent, Mary should be in a hospital gown. In this case, though, there was a time when she was stuck with her body. That was out of the ordinary, so he supposed that ordinary rules (as if anything about this whole topic could be considered run of the mill) no longer applied. Mary must have chosen how she wished to present herself, or that’s how she actually saw herself because the whole operation ordeal was unreal to her. Ryan had vaguely noticed the outfit when he first saw Mary’s spirit, but it didn’t seem that important, then.

  “That’s what Mary’s spirit is wearing. She’s almost, almost, THERE. My God, John! She’s completely free of her body and floating just above it. She’s changing position, going feet down to the ground. She’s walking to the head of the bed, but her eyes are still closed. Mary’s hands are on the body’s head. She’s just standing there.”

  Both men edged a little closer, but backed off when spirit-Mary’s face showed concern. Six feet was as close as they could get and there they stayed. Nothing happened for twenty minutes and, when things did begin to happen, they were subtle and difficult to catch. It was John’s turn to be the first to pick up on it.

  “Did I just see a toe twitch? There! Look.” There was movement in the toes. First one, then another, almost random twitching. When all ten had shown at least some movement they stopped. The fingers were next, with the same pattern. The men watched with rarely blinking eyes as different parts each took a turn at twitching.

  “Voluntary commands. She’s finding connections, and they’re still intact!” The eyelids fluttered, the forehead wrinkled, a faint smile and then a frown. “The face she kept for last. I took a medic course in the Navy. The rest of the body is connected to the spinal cord. The face is wired directly from the brain. She seems to be working her way up the central nervous system.”

  A light sweat appeared, patchy at first, then all over. Then it stopped and ‘gooseflesh’ started appearing on her legs and arms. “That’s the autonomic system. It piggybacks the central system of the brain and spinal cord, part of the flight or fight circuitry. It’s like she is running down a list, making the connections in an order of some kind.”

  John took in each detail carefully. On the surface he was calm and observant. Inside, he was in storm. This was his wife, but not his wife. This was the woman he had made love to and who bore their children, spoke to him, argued with him and encouraged him. Now there is something else in that elegant urn of the soul, an invited invader he had agreed to. There was such a great unreality to it all. Mary was being repaired, but she wasn’t Mary, was she? He divorced her. It seemed so cowardly now, it seemed wrong, against all he had learned growing up in church. He thought, “That’s MARY, for God’s sake!”

  Ryan looked over at John, who for all appearances seemed calm. Ryan wished he had the strength to be able to be like that. He could only imagine what he himself would be doing and feeling at a moment like this. “John, are you alright?”

  “I think so, Ryan, why do you ask?”

  “I heard you moan, thought you might be getting faint or something.”

&n
bsp; “I thought it was you.” Both men stopped talking and turned to face Mary (?). Her chest expanded beyond normal breathing and, as she exhaled, there was another faint sigh/moan that came out of slightly parted lips. Spirit Mary hadn’t moved until now.

  “John, Mary is dropping her hands away from the head. She’s opening her eyes, turning to us. John, she’s looking right at you and smiling. She’s saying something...

  “Dearest John, I’m done. It’s time to go. They‘re calling me. I can hear them. Don’t be afraid. Our children will come to accept the changes that must be, if not understand them, and you will teach them all that is needed by them. Do not feel ashamed for divorcing me, for you only released a legal obligation to this body in order to protect our children’s future. Death had already brought closure to our marriage vows. Thank you for being my husband. I release you fully from any obligation to me. You may choose another mate, or not. That is up to you. It doesn’t matter to me, and not because I don’t care about you. I do, as much as ever. I will know if you are thinking of me. Good-bye John and thank you, Ryan. Say goodbye from me to Vanessa when she wakes. I think she’ll make it. You may approach her now.” John looked at Ryan as he translated and saw moisture in his eyes.

  Ryan told John that Mary had finished, walked, glowed, faded away and was gone. They approached the bed slowly and carefully, each taking one side as their post, each looking into the face of the woman before them, each thinking very different but similarly deep thoughts. Then, slowly, the woman’s eyes began to open. She first looked to her left at Ryan. At first, she had difficulty focusing, but that cleared up and she smiled.

  Carefully, with difficulty, she opened her mouth and whispered her first living words to Ryan, “Hold my hand.” Ryan complied, and the look of wonder and happiness on her face melted his heart, and broke John’s. A minute later, she turned her head and looked sadly at John and said, in the same whisper, “I’m so sorry.”

  The limo cruised smoothly and quietly, as the newer hybrid vehicles did (the older ones had an annoying hum). The driver’s status board showed no requests from his passengers, so he continued his random route. Mr. Mendelssohn had instructed him to indulge himself, so he was taking a heading that offered pleasant scenery; views of the Hudson and Catskills and roads he had taken on his bicycle when he was younger. His fares were nice people, not like some of the snobs up from Jersey or the City, or ‘non-mainstream’, like some he had ferried around from Woodstock.

  Melissa took Exit 19 off the NYS Thruway and pulled over to check her SatCom link. She upgraded the connect to include her own unit, then thumbed ‘Birdy’ (best intercept route directions, with poetic license on the anagram spelling). Noting the directions, she left it in that mode ($8 per minute) and drove off. Her target was in no hurry and her SAAB was not meant for little old ladies going to church.

  Fifteen minutes later, Melissa stopped off in High Falls to pick up a cup of sweet and light at the Egg’s Nest Restaurant, stretch her legs and hit the sandbox. Allen was close, according to her last reading. She got back into the car and pushed ‘Birdy’ again.

  Whoever had programmed the thing had a sense of humor, for the read-out said ‘Bogie On Your Tail’. She stared at the message for a moment, then at the rear-view. Behind the row of cars she was in, parked along the road, was a sleek looking white stretch limo. While she watched, the doors opened and five people got out. One of them was Allen! Melissa panicked. This wasn’t a meeting place of her choosing. She wasn’t ready with her battle plans. She had to know more before engaging the enemy. She had to stop listening to her brother, whose life-goal was ROTC.

  Melissa slid down in the seat, hearing the voices as they went by, and turned to get a look at them from behind the headrest. The light sensitive windows had lost their day-tint, which allowed clearer night vision by the yellowish tinting that took its place, like the special glasses that hunters use. She hit the over-ride. The windows darkened almost instantly. She felt much more secure now. Reviewing the entourage, she saw an older man, a not so old man, Allen, his mother and, “Who’s the Mediterranean Mamma?” She looked more to be Rachel’s age than Allen’s. Good! That shook her for a moment. Once they had entered the restaurant, she took in the limo parked behind her. “That must have cost some coin.”

  Thinking tactical, Melissa pulled her car away from the lights of the restaurant to where she could observe from a dark vantage point, behind darker windows, thinking her darkest thoughts.

  Melissa saw them come out again after fifteen minutes. They had bags of carryout and all climbed into the limo, which headed onto the road again. Melissa waited fifteen seconds, then pulled out. She figured she could keep pretty good tabs on that starship, as it wasn’t making any fast speed or quick direction changes, not unless the driver wanted to dump drinks and nachos onto his patron’s laps. The thought brought a smile. She looked at her charge level and estimated only another hour on battery before she would be forced to switch over to the engine. She changed over to engine to charge the battery. Maybe she would need her SAAB to travel stealth mode in the near future. You never know.

  Annie sat on her chair and wondered how her friends up north were getting along. It had been weeks since they had come to visit. She wanted to tell Ryan and Vanessa about the Major’s last two success stories. Ryan had promised he would be working on her situation and, so far, had been a man of his word. Archibald would have liked this Navy man from Galveston. “Ah Archibald. Every time I look up at the stars I can see that night at the cotillion and feel your strength. I will have need of it if our friends are successful. Be patient, husband, please.”

  Limos will never be fitted with restrooms, Allen supposed. That story of Ryan’s had kept his interest beyond the pain of a full bladder. But even the best tale had to yield to nature’s demands, and the Egg’s Nest had been handy.

  The limo stopped at Gustav’s office and the party filed out for a final restroom break and to close down shop. Marianne looked at her watch. It was getting on to ten. Was that all it was? It seemed a lot later. It had been a very long day and it was time for closure.

  “Rachel, did you make arrangements for sleeping accommodations?”

  “Oh my gosh, Marianne, that completely slipped my mind! I’d rather not go back to the house. Any suggestions?”

  “There’s a Holiday Inn, a Ramada and a few sleep-cheaps I wouldn’t touch. You know what? Scratch that. You two are bunking at my house. I have a fold out couch for Allen, and you can sack out with me. I have a king-sized bed and extra pajamas, if that’s alright with you.

  Rachel yawned as they filed into the reception area, “Sounds, sounds fine. You’re a real sweetie. Gustav doesn’t pay you enough, whatever he’s paying you.”

  “True, but the fringe benefits are good and you get to meet nice people.”

  Ryan told Gustav, “We’ll get to work on Allen’s and Rachel’s suggestions tomorrow. Allen, we’ll get you and Rachel running up to speed on the nuts and bolts of running the business. Most of it is pretty well self-maintaining. Still, any business needs someone at the wheel or it will always run aground; someone I can trust. Rachel, having you nearby in Hurley is a big help. I can find something for Frank, if you think he should be part of this.”

  The doorbell sounded, which stopped all conversation. Who could it be at this hour? Marianne returned to the front door with Gustav (the protective daddy of the group) close behind. The rest heard muffled conversation, then footsteps. Marianne came into view and looked at Allen with a most wicked expression of amusement. “It’s for you.”

  Allen didn’t even have the time to say ‘huh?’ when Melissa came bouncing in with arms extended, wearing her best Barbie smile. She gave him a full press hug and said, “Allen, Baby, it’s GREAT to see you. Hi Rachel! Hello everybody! I’m Allen’s girlfriend. Aren’t I, Love?” The look on her face didn’t brook any argument. The open
-faced wide-eyed look on Allen evoked pity and sympathy from Allen’s seniors. Poor kid. Well, all part of growing up, thought Ryan. Then, he got an idea.

  “Ryan, you look like the Grinch planning his raid on Whoville. Whatever you’re thinking, I love it already.”

  “Well, this must be the fair damsel you have spoken so highly of, Master Allen.”

  Gustav snorted, then grabbed a quick tissue and blew his nose, feigning allergies. Melissa missed it.

  “In one ear and out the other, with nothing to stop it in between. I’ll bet she majors in accessorizing.”

  “I can see that you two have some catching up to do. But wait, I’m not being a good host. Please allow me to introduce our little group to your sweet lady.”

  “Kermit the Frog never saw such ham!”

  “I am Lord Clayton Leland Fluffernutter, Allen’s uncle, once removed, on his parietal side.”

  “Screeech!!”

  “I have called Master Allen down to discuss his inheritance of the family castle in Dorkeshire, Scotland.” Melissa’s eyes went wide. So did everyone else’s. Allen’s mouth still had yet to close, but the reason switched over to amazement and respect rather than being caught flat-footed. “This is my legal council and long-time family friend, Gustav Mendelssohn. His office manager and third cousin twice removed from the French border territory of Applesauce Lorraine, Lady Marianne Cabrini (leaning over and whispering “…of the original Cabrini family from Southern Sicily, IF you know what that means.”)” That sounded impressive to Melissa and kind of romantic. Allen, getting a castle? Related to royalty? When did this happen? How does one address royalty?

  “Your lordship,” said Melissa as she curtsied and did what she considered a subtle knowledgeable wink. Rachel bit her finger while adjusting a contact lens, which she didn’t wear any more than she did earrings. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mendelssohn, and you, too, Lady Cabrini.”

  Ryan realized that he had to do something or his entourage would break down into a giggle puddle. Very well. Time for an action step and this one would out-do the most diabolical web of intrigue that Vanessa had ever spun.

  “I do believe that it would be prudent and proper of us...”

  “Oh, this is too good!”

  “...to allow these two fine youths some privacy. My good friend Gustav, would you condescend to offering your private chambers to the children?”

  Gustav got it, immediately. It took all of his years of schooled expression-control to reply, “But of course, Lord Fluffernutter. Please, Mademoiselle Melissa and Master Allen, won’t you be my guests? Lady Marianne, please set up the other room just like this morning.” ZING! Gustav momentarily regretted mixing in French with his intended German…oh, well.

  Marianne couldn’t even get out a reply without giving away the farm; she was that close to bursting. Rachel caught it, too, and guessed correctly that it took this kind of insanity to keep a group like this from fraying at the ends. Even Allen had recovered enough of his sea legs to realize that the game was afoot and friends were there to back him up.

  Gustav escorted Allen and Melissa to his office. He pulled up a chair next to his desk with a butler’s flourish, a comfortable chair, befitting an honored guest. Allen was directed to Gustav’s own chair and, as he leaned over to pick up a few pens, slickly pushed a button next to a polarized glass inset on his desktop. It was a simple device that allowed only the person who was sitting at the desk to see what was on the display under the glass. Anyone else (Melissa) would only see a dark glass table- top. Gustav clicked his German heels (there was a distant howl from a closed room), bid the couple a pleasant chat, softly closed the door and spent the next minute with his face buried in his hands. He could see that the other conspirators were in the viewing room (the door was shut), already enjoying the views and conversation coming from his office. This was going to be good. He didn’t realize how good. Rachel and Marianne had forged a most formidable subterfuge team in a short period of time. They had downloaded a variety of ‘visual aids’. Rachel was intent on assisting her son at a difficult juncture in his life, but by Heaven, she was going to have fun doing it.

  Melissa explained how she had decided to drive about Allen’s haunts; feeling guilty about how shamefully and selfishly she had behaved the day before. She wanted nothing more than to patch things up and move on with their relationship in a positive direction. Allen was half listening, recognizing shtick when he heard it. What was more interesting was what had started showing up on the screen in front of him.

  “[Allen, only you can see this. We’re all here listening in and rooting for you. Vanessa has some ‘ditz dope’, quoting Ryan. She has been watching you two for quite a while. Melissa took your SatCom and pulled some information from it while you snoozed. That’s probably how she located us.]”

  “I was just pulling up to the Eggs Nest when I saw the group of you get into that limousine and take off. I couldn’t believe my good luck, but wasn’t sure if it was right for me to interrupt just then. Please forgive me, Darling, for following you.”

  “Oh, gag.”

  On screen came an animated crocodile in a polka-dotted bikini, squirting out a flood of tears. Allen wondered how he was going to keep a straight face while his comedy team was trying out material on him. He thought, “Then again, why worry about it? Who am I trying to impress?”

  “Melissa, the truth is that you downloaded private information from my SatCom some time ago while I was asleep and used it to locate me.” Another couple of words whizzed by the screen. “You probably scored the technique to do that from that comp-sci major you dated when you first came to RPI.” Melissa’s smile didn’t budge. There was a brief round of appreciative applause from the conspirators at Melissa’s level of expression control.

  “HOW the HELL did he know all THAT?” she thought. Aloud, “Allen, you have to understand that I only wanted to find you and tell you how sorry I was. It’s me, Allen. I’m the one who planned your 21st birthday party instead of accepting that invitation to the sorority bash, remember?” More words flashed by. Allen smiled and his eyes narrowed. Melissa didn’t like that look one bit. Vanessa had been nosey, very nosey.

  “Wrong, again. What really happened was that you dropped hints that you were going to drop me in order to get your social-conscious competitors, you don’t really have any friends, do you, to come to your little party. You even told them you were going after that team captain, Bruce Wallace, to make it sound feasible. I spoiled your whole show designed to have maximum envy aimed at you by the people you want to show off to and show up.”

  Vanessa: “Check.”

  Rachel: “Oh YES!” as she high-fived Marianne.

  Ryan: “That’s my boy!”

  Gustav: “What a lawyer he would have made.”

  Melissa: Smile dropped, eyes wide, mouth open.

  Vanessa: “If you’re looking for fun, you don’t need a reason, all you need is a gun, it’s wabbit season.”

  Ryan passed that one on. Bugs Bunny lived on through the decades, so everyone got the reference.

  Melissa went for damage control. The original battle plans were completely scrapped. Time for plan B: direct frontal attack at he who dared to preach to her. She wasn’t raised in any church and wasn’t about to be lectured morals by someone whose bed she had graced, more than once. “Allen Hawthorn, let’s get some things straight. Wipe that smile off your face because I’m dead serious.” A line of Barbie dolls can- canned across the screen and Allen howled.

  “Check, again.”

  “Nice one, Marianne,” giggled Rachel. “Knocked out her second line of defense. Now, my money is on ‘poor, poor pitiful me.’”

  Gustav knew from many years experience that women saw through other women with amazing accuracy. It made him feel gullible, which was a particularly unpleasant thought for a legal professional.

  “Allen (sniff), you, you just don
’t understand. No one does. I really need you, your support, and your love. If you leave me I’ll fall apart. You are my rock. You don’t know how much I admire and depend on you. There’s no one on campus I’d rather spend my time with than you. Please, let’s leave all this misunderstanding behind us. I just can’t take much more of this.” Tears began to peak out from her well-trained tear ducts and Allen was showing signs of weakening. But, just in time, a silent clip of crowds giving standing ovations came into Allen’s view- screen. It was time to put this puppy to bed.

  “Miss Banks...”

  “Ooooh, I like the way he began that.”

  “...I have outgrown you and your childishness. My eyes have been opened today to heights you do not have the capacity to appreciate. May I see your SatCom?”

  “What’s he up to?” thought everyone listening. Gustav had an idea, but didn’t think Allen knew enough yet to pull it off.

  “FCC regulations have strict laws that are on Federal books.”

  Gustav beamed. “He DOES know!”

  “You have stolen protected codes purchased for private use and were my private property. That is FEDERAL illegal. I am keeping your SatCom to be analyzed for the theft. It’s not hard to document. I will then press charges against you and have you removed from RPI. I have the juice to do this and the law is on my side. You can avoid all this if you do EXACTLY what I say. Do you understand me?”

  “He reaches for the rook.”

  Melissa was too much in shock to do anything else except hoarsely whisper, “Wha - what do I have to do?”

  “You will get your SatCom back this week (he had no clue whether someone could document an illegal download or not, but felt sure that Melissa didn’t know that he didn’t know — anyway — something was going across the desk screen. “[Vanessa wants to have your baby.]”).

  “You will drive back to RPI, now, and return anything of mine in your room by tomorrow night. Officially, we have broken our relationship by mutual agreement and you will let it go at that. You have already found out that what you say can and will get back to me. Let things go, do what I have said and no charges will be pressed, though I have seven years before your statute of limitations is up. Clear?”

  “Checkmate.”

  Melissa could only nod mutely. No one had ever before stood up to her like this. While she felt frustrated in defeat, she also felt grudging admiration, even attraction. Her next thought, though brief, was to wonder what all the cheering was about in the other room.

  Allen rose and escorted Melissa out of the room. No one else was in evidence as they walked through the reception room. The door to the ‘viewing room’ was closed and the office was silent.

  It was just as silent on her trip up to Troy, with her usual lead-foot pace exchanged for the posted limit. There was something about being in a car that allowed one to think with greater perspective and insight, as long as you weren’t one of those brain-deaders who putted along with their windows rattling from high-amp sound systems. Melissa turned off, for the first time since she drove her SAAB, the ‘laser speed analysis detector do-hickey’ installed to look like a dedicated auto phone unit. As if she had ever needed a car phone with her SatCom. The only calls this ‘car phone’ picked up were warnings of Trooper traps.

  Some enterprising young prodigy had figured out that the lasers used by Troopers excited a harmonic in the surrounding air that was detectable from a great distance with a relatively simple device. It was immediately banned. The young man got an offer from Singapore and moved there. Last she had read about him was that he was living the good life on the other side of the world, his invention in common usage in the States. The only thing the high-ideal legislation did was to keep US business from getting the profits they might have made.

  Melissa remembered the argument this had caused between her and Allen. She felt it was stupid to outlaw the device, since it was available now to those who could afford it. He said that his father had been a paramedic and so had seen the wrecks caused by people who traveled too fast but could afford radar detectors (the counterpart of past technology to current laser techniques). They never did see eye to eye on that, but the thought got her onto another track.

  Allen did his best to live up to his father’s expectations, though his father was long since dead. She didn’t really care what her father thought of her. Her father was alive. That felt, wrong.

  His mother still held reins on Allen, but used them rarely and because she cared. His mother stuck by Allen and protected him when she felt it was needed. Her mother gave up on reins long ago and just sent her money when she asked for it. Even that interaction had been lost when she was just given credit cards with generous limits to do with as she pleased. That felt more wrong.

  Allen’s line about her not having any real friends came back to haunt her. She couldn’t deny it. There were many that she interacted with, but her crowd was notorious for dropping members at the drop of a hat. She was always in a contest. So far she had always come out on top and rode the wave. Tonight was a complete wipeout. That felt...bad.

  A car, with two young men in it, slowed down to pace hers. They smiled and waved at her. Melissa saw it in her peripheral vision and, without looking, punched the day-tint override once more. Message sent. The other car picked up speed and drove off. Message received. That felt better.

  Allen got high grades not because he worked to get them, but because he worked to understand the material...his high grades were just a side effect, and his mother was proud of him.

  She got so-so grades, not because she couldn’t do better, but because she didn’t feel they were important. Her father once said that they have a name for the doctor that graduated with the lowest passing grade point average. That name was ‘Doctor’. While it was intended as a lesson for her to be careful in choosing professionals, it mainly told her that it was OK to be mediocre, as long as you got to where you wanted to go. What used to make so much sense to her, now felt stupid.

  Melissa Banks was no airhead. She was a formidable personality that had just discovered major flaws in her guidance-system programming. Grieving over losses was not on the agenda, for she did not accept those losses. It was time for her to get the Good Ship Melissa aimed at the right star, and she knew exactly where that star was.

  The walk from the office to the limo was fun. Allen was carried on the shoulders of Ryan and Gustav, while Rachel and Marianne sang ‘Hail to the Chief’. They didn’t know any words that weren’t in the tide and so substituted ‘dah’s’ for the rest. The driver got a chuckle out of that. Lively crew this one, he thought. Old friends, no doubt. They settled in for the 20-minute drive to ‘Marianne’s Boondocks’. The story needed closure.

  “That poor man,” said Rachel. “He really loved her, didn’t he? To lose her, realize he shared the blame, and then see her wake up again but with someone else inside? How did he keep his sanity?”

  “By pulling the same stunt Allen did. He fainted. I had to drag John to the couch. I went back to Vanessa, for that was whom she was now, still laying on the bed. Before that time, she could only touch me with her voice. Now I could feel her hand in mine. There aren’t words to describe what I felt. ‘Love’ doesn’t have enough letters in it, but that’s part of its power; so much represented by so little because nothing spoken can fully describe it.

  She asked me to help her up, which I did, managing to keep the sheet covering her dignity. It wasn’t so much that she was weak as untried, so to speak. The simple act of sitting is more complex than standing. Our skeleton has joints that lock into place when standing, minimizing postural muscle use. Sitting unlocks many of those joints and we have to rely more on the muscles. Hers were new to her mind. Once she managed to sit without my help, which took a while, learning to stand was easier. I stood in front of her, holding her hands for her first steps as if she were a big toddler in a toga, diaper and all. No
father was more amazed or proud as I was at that moment. Vanessa caught on fast, not that she was especially gifted (though she is), but muscles have memories of their own. If the central nervous system had to do everything, it would pop fuses.”

  Allen cocked his head. “Fuses?”

  “Sorry, old term. That she would activate circuit protection-couplings would be more present-time. Anyway, she was walking in no time. Neither of us knew how long it had been since she had kissed a man, but she made up for lost time. It would have been cruel to have John see his wife’s body in her accustomed clothes, so I had previously sent them along with one of the staff, who seemed to have good fashion sense, to have them used as a template for replacements. We took pity and agreed to put a temporary hold on overt shows of affection between us as soon as John regained awareness. She and I wanted him to wake to seeing Vanessa in different clothes to help John cut the cords.”

  Allen asked, “So what’s the big deal about clothes? People who mean a lot to me, well, I don’t really care what they wear. It’s what’s inside that is important. That’s what Mom has always said.”

  Ryan nodded agreement. “True, but clothes are what we use to define ourselves and they can be powerful statements. Take a stranger and put him in a business suit, then put him in a prisoner’s outfit and see if you judge what’s underneath differently. Clothes say who you are, what you are about and what you believe in. I left instructions to purchase outfits that had made a personal fashion statement that was different from the ones that had belonged to Mary.”

  One of Marianne’s tasks was to keep Ryan from being too pedantic when the hour was late. “Hey professor; you’re getting windier.”

  “Vanessa insisted on dressing herself. She said that it was our first date and she was shy. Like hell.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The bed curtain reopened and there she stood in a skirt, shirt, and jacket combination that was professional but feminine. Not that it mattered that much, for I’d have been impressed with her in a potato sack.”

  “It’s amazing what I can do for a potato sack, Lover.”

  “The change may have helped some, but when John came to, his eyes barely left Vanessa no matter who he was talking to. Vanessa, ever the ‘fools rush in where the wise fear to tread’ type, walked up to John and took his hand. She said, “I am Vanessa now, John. Mary is gone. You must accept that. Give it time and you will do all right. It’s time you moved on. Staying here is only going to make it harder.”

  “Mary may have forgiven John, but I suspect that Vanessa still held a grudge. She also felt sorry for him, but wanted him gone so that she could start her new life. That’s when the shit really hit the fan.”

  Rachel and Allen looked at each other. What could possibly have stirred up more upheaval than the legion of events that had occurred so far?

  “The nurse came in, and the look on her face hinted that her news would be unwelcome. It surprised me that she went straight to John instead of me. She took him to the corner of the room and told him something Vanessa and I couldn’t hear. If the look on the nurse’s face was troubled, the one on John’s was absolute horror. The door to the room opened again, and there stood a middle-aged woman with two young girls in tow. I felt my stomach hit the floor when their eyes locked onto Vanessa and, with excited voices, called out ‘Mommy!’”

  Ryan backtracked. “Mary Safford’s mother, Rowena, had died of cancer. Her father’s heart had never been that good to begin with, so Rowena’s passing hurried along what would have been an eventuality.

  “Greta D’Rosa was the eldest of Rowena and her two sisters. She had never married, so, as a substitute, she took her duties as Maiden Auntie seriously. That included stepping in and taking charge when Mary was ill. John tolerated Aunt Greta. His daughters loved their grand aunt and abbreviated her tide to ‘Grant Greta’. John thought it appropriate, ‘Grant’ being a belligerent general who was fond of drinking, cigars, and cursing. Then he would say to himself that the comparison wasn’t fair, as Greta didn’t smoke or drink.

  “He had to admit that, during difficult times, Greta had been a big help to his family. She did have value, but her values were as unbending as were her feelings about those who did not share those values.

  “Greta suspected John’s infidelity before Mary did, so when Mary came to her with her misgivings, Greta wasted no time. It was she that sent out the feelers and came up with the evidence on her errant nephew-in-law through one of Mary’s friends. How Mary had kept Greta’s hands from John’s neck, or even any hint of her awareness a secret, was testimony to Mary’s inner strength. Greta gave grudging admiration to her niece on this account and agreed to hold off the hit squad until they could work out things themselves.

  “Mary’s operation took Greta by surprise. She knew her sister had died of cancer, so it wasn’t unlikely that there were genetic predispositions. Mary’s brain death as a result of the anesthesia and the tearing apart of John’s heart proved that John had nothing to do with the catastrophe. That didn’t stop Greta from placing the blame squarely on John’s shoulders. The excuse for his divorcing Mary seemed plausible, but once you lose Greta’s trust, you never ever got it back.

  “Then Mary was spirited away with the help of undisclosed funds, putting her into a pricey clinic with pricey private nurses. It just didn’t make sense to her. She was going to get to the bottom of things and God help the man or woman who stood in her way.

  “Greta had not intended to use the children as tools or weapons. She was taking care of them and trusted no one else with that responsibility. The children had visited their mother in a hospital before, so it didn’t raise any red flags to bring them along to the new location (how the hell could he afford this place when he divorced Mary to save funds, who was bankrolling this, why, and...). The RN that tried to keep her down in the lobby was, to Grant Greta, a speed bump. So it was that Greta D’Rosa, tower of strength that many had leaned on but who never had to lean on others, was undone to see her niece before her, standing in a business suit. She was together enough to see that the look on John’s face was one of absolute terror, followed closely behind by the look on Mary’s face and of mine. The children had run to their mother, hugging her and jumping and calling her ‘Mommy’. All Vanessa could do was stand there, wishing so soon after her new life had begun, for death.”

  Always prepared, Marianne had seated Rachel next to herself and was even now applying hugs and tissues (using some herself). Gustav’s arm was on Allen’s shoulders. Allen had been elevated to master of his fate just fifteen minutes ago and now was blubbering like a child might do, seeing his beloved pet under the tires of someone’s car. Gustav recalled something he had read about Ulysses. The exact quote escaped him, but he remembered it had something to do with greatness. “...to be otherwise would not allow you to sup the full measure of your joy, or to cry all of your tears.” There was greatness in this young man and he had the honor of being a future mentor to him.

  Ryan had lived with these memories and was used to them. However, community sharing includes emotions. He sensed them strong in his comrades and managed his own sobriety with difficulty. Vanessa had left. Ryan couldn’t blame her. It was a most wrenching time of her life and reliving it with sobbing mortals in a limo was probably too much for her. She likely went ‘away down south in the land of cotton’, sitting on a porch with an understanding friend.

  When enough time had passed, Ryan continued. “Did you ever fall and have your mind kick into high gear to examine your options? That was what happened to me, but with greater intensity than ever.

  “The kids had seen what they believed to be their mother, now up and conscious. The damage was done. That lady must be the aunt that John had talked about. Stiff, very stiff. Stiff people don’t bend. This scene must have floored her, giving me a temporary respite from questions from that quarter. I had to hurry. Vanessa had deer-in-t
he-car-lights syndrome, so no help from her. John was the only help I had. No way could I convince Greta like I convinced him. Mary’s gone; Vanessa’s in her place and could no longer prove her existence like she could as a spirit. But what could John do? The aunt didn’t trust him for beans. No matter how fast my mind went, it was a major no-win. So I did what I hadn’t done in a long time, ‘thank God’.”

  Rachel peeked above her tissue, looking like a bleary harem dancer, “What could you have possibly done?”

  “I just told you,” he said, and watched to see if they would understand.

  Allen caught it first and nodded to at his mystified mother. “Thank God,” and dawn broke on Rachel’s face. Still, the realization didn’t reveal the resolution.

  Ryan smiled to think, “That’s how it is, is it? Rachel’s sharp, protective and decisive. Allen is more intuitive, better able to see through a puzzle. That’s good to know.”

  “I prayed with everything I had. My newborn Love was in a tail-spin, the two children were headed for a major mental strike, their father wasn’t far from being a basket case, and Grant Greta was seconds from a rubber room. What happened then was the biggest miracle since the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes.

  “There is a bond between child and mother, seeded before birth, strengthened with milk and deepened with lullabies. The eyes are paths to the soul and no one sees those pathways more clearly than a child. Vanessa’s eyes were now physically the same as Mary’s, but these two young girls had looked beyond those eyes for years, intensely, trustingly, and knowingly.

  “There are other things as well that complement that communication, words only being a small part of that equation: posture, unique personal quirks and how one might move a hand while speaking. A famous mime, Marcel Marceau, said that there were a hundred eyebrow positions, and that each position communicated something different. While the mature adults stood agog, it was the ones who make up the Kingdom of Heaven who found the truth with their hearts. Both girls knew it at the same instant. You see, they were identical twins. That may have helped their realization along all the faster, though I suspect that even fraternals or simple siblings would have caught on eventually. I could never begin to tell them apart and only knew their names to be Penny and Patricia.

  “One of them said, “You aren’t Mommy, are you?”

  “The other, “Where is she?”

  “Greta started to speak, but John rallied and ordered her to stifle with just a look on his face. I actually heard Greta’s mouth snap shut.” Allen was at that numb state where he couldn’t cry but could still think, after a fashion. Rachel needed a new package of tissues. Ryan thought, “They don’t duplicate, they complement. Good.”

  “Vanessa took each child by the hand and walked them over to the couch. She sat them down and knelt in front of them. John knew the story that was about to unfold, for what else can you tell a child but the truth? John went up to Greta and, for what had to be the first time, took her hands in his. Greta’s eyes hadn’t blinked since she walked into the room, but now they blinked, hard.

  “He said, “Listen to her, Grant Greta. It’s the truth. I hope she will skip the breast reconstruction (Greta was too blown away to react to that revelation) and Beverly for their sake, but I want you to know the whole truth. It’s important because I need your help, now, more than ever. You are the closest thing I have to giving them a mother, now. Please listen, believe and, if you can, learn to trust me again, and forgive me.” Greta gave the barest nod, all she was capable of. A strong tree in a hurricane tends to snap easily. Greta needed John’s help, too, though she didn’t know it. True to John’s wish, Vanessa omitted the surgery and infidelity. Vanessa wasn’t their mother. The kids could tell the difference, but could also tell that the person who looked and sounded like their mother was being honest with them. When Vanessa had finished, the room was completely silent. The nurse, whom I never saw again after that day, stood by Greta, holding her hand. Greta was misty eyed, but started to rebuild her strength reserves. John was being strong for Greta during that process. I guess he felt he had to make up for the past by becoming more of a man than he had been before.

  “Vanessa finished speaking and looked to the children for judgment. They were quiet for a minute, and then one asked if she would come and visit them sometime. The other said they would like that. “We’ll tell you stories about Mommy if you will tell us more of what you know about her.” Vanessa gratefully agreed to the arrangement.”

  Ryan looked down at his folded hands, then continued with, “We kept in touch with that family. Vanessa was true to her word and visited the twins. The three of them made an unlikely group of friends, but friends they were until Vanessa passed away. By that time, Penny and Patricia were both married and had children of their own. With all that had happened, keeping that family together with any kind of private life (they had their share of nosy neighbors, relatives, teachers) required that they all move far away from Missouri. I set John up with Mrs. Viola Morrison, of all people, as her personal accountant and social secretary in St. Paul. Greta and Viola became fast friends and were quite the gadabouts. Viola became another aunt to the kids, and who better to keep secrets than one that has already proven her reliability?”

  The limo stopped. Marianne looked out of the window and said to her house, “Honey, I’m home.”

  Ryan added, “Allen and Rachel, sleep in and that’s an order. We’ll be by at eight AM sharp to take you all to breakfast.”

  Allen protested. “Eight? I thought you said sleep IN!”

  Marianne yawned. “Around here that IS sleeping in. Get used to it, Allen. You’re in the Fitzgalen Army now. Wait till you find out what getting up early means.”

  “But, we still haven’t hit the longevity thing. Wasn’t that one of the main topics to cover?”

  Ryan smiled and as the limo pulled away, got in the last word, “Maybe we’ll cover that tomorrow on the plane.”

  Allen and Rachel started to walk towards the house, then stopped dead, and looked at each other. “Plane?”

  Marianne smiled and shook her head as she fumbled for her house keys. “They’ll get used to it, like I did.” She had a feel for people and these two she had strong feelings about. There were some wonderful things on the horizon for them, and some hard times, too. Rachel was heading for the latter. She was sure of that.

  The limo began its last run for the night to the office of Gustav Mendelssohn (who lived in the apartment above), then to Ryan’s condo. The old friends were silent for most of the trip, as was their custom. Both were going over all the events of the day. “Ryan, could it have been possible to squeeze another thing in?”

  “Not with a shoe horn as big as Vanessa’s ego, my friend.” Gustav noted the lack of what would have been a sizable tongue-lashing, had Vanessa been present.

  “Still not here?”

  “No. Must be still down south. Which reminds me, there is some planning we have to do. How much effort would it take to get Allen to take a leave of absence from RPI for a semester? Item two: Can we pry momma-san away from Frank and company to go with us? Allen will go, by our contract, but that doesn’t hold Rachel to it. Item three: Make reservations for two more on the next plane south, after breakfast, that is. Might as well think positive about Rachel going. Item four: Finalize our DBA change from ‘Custom Properties’ to ‘Hawthorn Enterprises’, with you-know-who as CEO.”

  “Yes, Boss,” was the reply. Nothing unexpected on the list and he had already made these things happen. Extra plane reservations were made a week ago, and he had overbooked the hotel reservations many months ago. The DBA/CEO changes were already finalized after he was sure Allen was on board. Gustav didn’t make it a habit to tell Ryan about all the details he looked after. Ryan had enough on his mind.

  Just about then, Melissa had rolled into RPI, parked and was walking into the dorm. Barbara Meissner had taken a
study break and was walking her way, en route to the restroom. “Hey Barb, I could use some help on my trig class project. If I supply pizza and soda, could you take a minute and point me in the right direction? I’d really appreciate it.”

  Barbara looked at Melissa, wondering where the clone hid the real body. “I could spare a few minutes. Don’t you have a social something to go to?”

  “Not tonight. I’ve got some time to make up. Don’t you know? Men don’t go for brainless Barbies anymore. I’ll call Domino’s. Hawaiian OK?”