by Rae Knightly
Amaru was visibly relieved. He smiled his biggest smile and said: “Come, then, now that that is settled, we must get you on your way.”
Before them lay the Akapana pyramid, where a group of Aymara men dressed in red ponchos and colorful knitted caps with earflaps were waiting for them. When they approached, the group of men bowed their head, saying in greeting: “Suma urukiya, Mesmo.”
***
When Ben got up the next morning, he showered hurriedly and glanced out his bedroom window while he got dressed. Next to his grandfather’s house lay a field of browning corn crops. It was bordered by a line of trees and shrubs, while beyond that lay the now famous field where The Cosmic Fall had occurred. Even though branches hampered the view, he could tell that the field was still sealed off by yellow tape to warn off trespassers, though ome of it had now come loose and was blowing loosely in the wind.
Higher up the hillside and overlooking part of the field, was Mr. Victor Hayward’s modern, West-Coast styled dwelling. Grampa’s neighbour was a wealthy man who owned his own airline company, and this house was only one of his many different properties across the country. People in town said he was a big player in the Alberta oil sands, which meant he was away often.
Ben sighed and stroked Tike’s back. He could hear his mother bustling in the kitchen, so he clambered down the stairs to join her. But Tike seemed reluctant to follow, preferring to sniff intently at a spot by the window.
Laura had already removed eight weeks of dust, thrown out smelly items from the fridge and opened the windows wide to let in fresh air.
“Morning, Benji. I guess we’ll head out right away. The fridge and the pantry are empty. We’ll find some breakfast at the hospital.” She said.
Ben nodded as he finished putting on his sweater. “I wonder where Grampa has been all this time.” He said, noticing how the house had an abandoned feeling to it.
“Yes,” Laura agreed, clearly unhappy and worried. “Let’s hope we get some answers soon.”
They argued about whether or not to leave Tike out in the back yard while they were at the hospital. Ben refused to leave his four-legged friend behind, but Laura finally convinced him that Tike would be more comfortable at the house, since the hospital did not allow pets inside. Ben very reluctantly agreed, then hurriedly left the back yard so he wouldn’t have to look at Tike’s pleading eyes.
Fifteen minutes later they had reached the hospital again, where they found things unchanged. Grampa was still stable and unresponsive. They hung around in his room: Laura sitting by his bed as she stroked his hand, Ben reading magazines and switching through TV channels without really paying much attention. Looking for a distraction, Ben ended up going down to the gift shop while Laura fell asleep on the chairs in the waiting area.
No sooner had she dosed off, when a nurse shook her gently by the shoulder: “He’s awake.” She announced.
Laura sprang up and hurried to the room, where she found her father with his eyes open.
She rushed by his side, saying with relief: “Dad!”
The nurse removed his oxygen mask before checking his vital signs. “Take it easy on him.” She warned gently, “He still needs lots of rest.” Then she left quietly.
Laura took her father’s hand: “Dad? It’s Laura.”
Her father’s eyes focused, creasing into a smile: “Honeybee…” He began, his voice frail.
Laura’s chin wavered at hearing her nickname, but she pulled herself together and shushed him. “Stay calm, Daddy. The nurse said you need to rest.”
Ryan Archer closed his eyes to gather his bearings, then frowned as he opened them again. He stared at Laura. “How come you’re not angry at me?” He asked, puzzled.
Laura suppressed a nervous burst of laughter: she recognized her Dad’s sense of humor. “Oh Daddy,” she said with fake anger, “I’m furious at you!”
Ryan relaxed, smiling weakly. “Oh good.” He wheezed, “I was confused there for a minute.”
Laura couldn’t keep up the pretense. Her face crumpled. “I missed you so much!” She sobbed.
Ryan’s smile faded as he replied: “Me too, Honeybee.” He tapped her hand reassuringly. He scanned the room with his eyes, adding: “Where’s Benji?”
“He’ll be up in a minute. I sent him to the gift shop to keep his mind busy.” She answered. “He becomes restless when Tike’s not with him.”
“Huh!” Ryan said weakly: “So he’s still got that yapping scoundrel?”
Laura didn’t answer. Instead, she said: “He’s missed you too, you know.”
Ryan frowned, then responded with a twinkle in his eye: "The yapping scoundrel misses me?"
Laura smiled a watery smile: “No, silly, I meant Ben. He’s missed you so much. We’ve been worried sick about you! I couldn’t find you anywhere!” She broke off, her words caught in her throat. “Now is not the time, but when you feel up to it, we really need to talk about what happened.”
Ryan had become serious, the cheeky twinkle in his eye fading as he spoke: “I need to talk to you too, Honeybee.”
“Not now, Daddy. You need to get better first. It can wait until you feel stronger.” She answered.
Ryan shook his head weakly as he opened his mouth to speak, but a wheezing cough left his cracked lips instead. Laura helped him drink a couple of sips of water from a plastic cup. “Listen to me now, Honeybee.” He began again. “Remember that notary, up on Knight Road?” When she nodded, he continued: “He has my will.”
Laura opened her mouth to protest but he silenced her: “I’m leaving the house to Benjamin.” Laura gaped, so he went on quickly: “No, listen! I know you don’t want to live out there, but you can rent the place. You’ll get good money from it, it will keep you afloat while you live in Vancouver. You will be the custodian of the house until Benji turns 18. Then he will decide what to do with it. He can sell it or live in it, I don’t care. He will decide.”
“Dad,” Laura jumped in, “I had to drag Ben to the house last night. He’s refused to go back in all these weeks because…” she stopped herself.
“… he’s afraid.” Ryan finished.
Laura nodded, glad they were on the same page. “He’s terrified.” She confirmed. She hesitated, before adding: “Why is he terrified, Dad?”
She could tell he would not meet her eyes. There was a long silence, before he said: “Do you two still fight?”
She sighed, looking away, frustrated that he was changing the subject.
Ryan pushed on: “You shouldn’t take it up on him, you know, just because he has his father’s looks.” Laura glared at him, but Ryan continued: “He’s a lot more like you than you know. All you see in him are his father’s handsome face, brown hair and eyes, but inside…. inside he’s just like you, strong and stubborn and witty all at the same time. You should spend more time with him. He can be a lot of fun, believe me!” He let his words sink in, before adding: “I want you to take the boy out on a long vacation, somewhere far away. Don’t fuss about expenses! I’m leaving you a good sum of money too.”
“Dad!” She exclaimed, truly offended this time.
“Don’t interrupt me, young lady!” Ryan snapped: “You get that boy away from here! And don’t give me that excuse again that you have to work. You’ll manage to make ends meet, I promise you. Go out, take that boy on a trip, get to know him, he needs you!”
Laura couldn’t face him, too much anger was boiling inside of her. She was the one who had planned on telling him a piece of her mind, yet somehow the tables had turned and now he was the one lecturing her. “He needs you too, you know!” She retorted. “You have no idea what we’ve been through! The nightmares, the long nights watching over him while he writhed in his bed, his body shaking with fever! I had no idea how to deal with it, because I had no idea what had happened! Yes, I understand that some freakish meteor landed in your back yard and that it’s a crazy thing to wrap your head around, but what was I supposed to do? How the heck was I supposed to talk
to him about a thing like that?” She was sobbing again and it took all her willpower to whisper: “Where were you? Why didn’t you call?” She barely realized that he was squeezing her hand, inviting her to look in the direction of the door.
Ben was standing there awkwardly, aware that he had unwittingly eavesdropped on a private conversation.
Laura, who was caught off guard, raised her hand to her mouth as her breath started coming out in short gasps. Nervously, she reached for the asthma inhaler in her handbag so she could take in a couple of deep breaths.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered finally, before walking out, leaving Ben and Ryan staring at each other uncomfortably.
***
Ben felt awkward being in the room alone with his grandfather: perhaps because he barely recognized the man who, not so long ago, had seemed like a strong oak, with his booming voice and quick guffaws of laughter through his prickly beard. Now he was pale and thin, a shadow of who he had once been. Or perhaps it was the invisible wall of silence that had built up between them since his absence.
It was Ryan who spoke first, saying: “I see your Mom found you ok…”
Ben knew he was referring to the day after The Cosmic Fall, when his mother had found him unconscious under a tree. He nodded.
Ryan’s face relaxed. “Good, good.” He said to half to himself. The old man cleared his throat.
He’s as uncomfortable as I am!
Ben felt a pang of emotion at this realization.
“Are you studying hard, boy? Are you keeping up your grades?” Ryan asked.
Ben nodded again briefly.
I don’t want to talk about school grades.
Ryan repeated: “Good, good. Your mother tells me you’re staying at the house?”
Once more, Ben nodded, staring down at his feet.
“Look at me, Potatoehead.” His Grampa ordered, using the name he had for his grandson. “She says you don’t like it there anymore…” Since Ben continued to study the patterns on the floor, Grampa added softly: “… because of the nightmares.”
This time Ben’s head shot up, his eyes wide.
“Yeah…” Grampa acquiesced, before saying slowly. “I get them, too.”
Ben went to stand by his grandfather’s bedside. “You… you get them, too?” He asked shakily. “What do they mean? The nightmares? I can’t remember anything. The doctor says I have amnesia.”
Grampa looked at the twelve-year old intently: “Do you know what amnesia is, son? Have you ever wondered why you even have amnesia? It’s the brain’s ability to protect you from very disturbing memories. It keeps you sane. Have you ever thought that, perhaps, it was a good thing you have amnesia, and that, for your own sanity, it should stay that way?”
Ben stared at him, stunned. Whatever he had expected from his grandfather, this was certainly not it. Somehow he had hoped for some kind of explanation. He felt terribly deceived. “How can you say such a thing, Grampa? You’re supposed to help me remember! So I can heal!”
To his bewilderment, his grandfather started crying. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Benji.”
“What do you mean, Grampa?” Ben asked quickly. “Sorry… what… happened?”
Grampa wheezed: “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.”
Ben didn’t know what his grandfather was apologizing for, but he was only too aware of the heart monitor that was beeping unevenly. He took his grandfather’s hand: “It’s ok, Grampa. It wasn’t your fault.”
Ryan nodded gratefully, a heavy weight visibly lifting from his heart. His hand clenched painfully around Ben’s own as he gasped for air.
Two nurses appeared and rushed around Ryan’s bed.
“You’ll have to wait outside, son.” One of them said urgently.
“Ben!” Grampa gasped. He was really struggling to speak now. A nurse had put a firm hand on Ben’s shoulder, but he shook her off. He bent down and put his ear close to Grampa’s mouth. Grampa wheezed: “If…danger… find…Mesmo!”
Mesmo
Ryan Archer sank into the pillows as a nurse placed the oxygen mask on his face again. Ben held onto his grandfather’s hand, his eyes streaming with tears: “I love you, Grampa!” He could see Grampa’s watery eyes returning the words to him as the nurse lead him away.
Laura ran down the corridor, closely followed by a doctor who rushed into the room without saying a word, leaving them both stranded and huddling together.
CHAPTER FIVE
Twisted Eyes
BEN PACED THE CORRIDOR WHILE LAURA BIT HER nails as the clock ticked away the minutes and hours. Finally the doctor came out to tell them that Mr. Archer was stable again. From what he understood, he said, the family had not seen each other in many years, so he cautioned them not to bring up too many strong emotions at this stage. Mr. Archer was resting again, so it would be best not to disturb him. He would reevaluate Mr. Archer’s health in the morning.
Laura and Ben breathed easier but felt helpless as to what to do now. Waiting and doing nothing was nerve wracking. Laura took her son for some dinner at the hospital cafeteria. She wasn’t hungry, but it took their minds off things for a while. They hung around for several more hours in the waiting room, until a nurse went to check up on Grampa and found him stable, giving them a sense of relief.
By then it was one o’clock in the morning. Most of the hospital was dark and the corridors empty. Laura decided they should get some rest back at the house as they were both emotionally exhausted. Laura put her arm around her son’s shoulder as they slowly headed for the exit. A bald doctor in a white coat brushed past them. Ben caught the man’s honey-brown eyes briefly as he moved away to let him through.
Twisted eyes…
Something unpleasant tugged at the back of his mind, so much so that he suddenly felt sick.
But the moment vanished as soon as they reached Grampa’s house, where Tike had been waiting for them impatiently. Ben hugged his four-legged friend, while Tike licked the boy’s face and wagged his tail excitedly. As boy and dog headed upstairs, Ben realized he had left the watch Grampa had given him on his bedside table. He vowed to put it on again as soon as he went to bed.
***
The bald doctor in the white coat followed the directions to the coronary care unit. Once there, he picked up a clipboard containing patient information that was placed on top of the reception desk, without addressing the two nurses who were talking quietly at the far end of it. He saw several screens behind the desk, some showing images from cameras laid out in the hospital corridors, while others monitored patient’s status. He made sure the nurses were still talking before reaching over to touch the screens, which immediately turned to static. Once satisfied, the bald man headed down the corridor and entered a patient’s room.
Ryan Archer was resting in the dim light, his heart beating regularly.
The doctor closed the door, then locked it.
Grampa’s voice sounded frail in the silence: “Who’s there?”
The doctor walked over to the heart monitor, then followed the IV line from the intravenous pump to Ryan’s arm with the tip of fingers.
Grampa asked: “Why did you lock the door?”
The doctor appeared in his field of vision. He wore a grey business suit, light blue shirt and tie under the doctor’s white coat, as if he had been to a business meeting before coming to the hospital. He studied Grampa with emotionless eyes: “You are Ryan Archer, yes?”
Grampa rolled up his eyeballs, resigned: “I know who you are. You all look the same with your neat suits.” He stared back at the doctor before adding: “CSIS? FBI? Chinese secret services? Which one is it? What do you want now? I already told your buddies everything. Can’t you see I’m on my deathbed? Give a man some peace!”
The fake doctor replied coldly: “Yes, I read your witness file. Quite interesting. But many gaps. Your story may have made sense to my ‘buddies’. But not to me.” He sat down on the edge of Grampa’s bed, saying purposefu
lly: “You see, you forgot to mention Mesmo.”
Grampa stared at him in stunned silence, a veil of fear passing before his eyes. He glanced away, but too late, the man had captured his reaction. “Who are you?” Grampa whispered strenuously, trying to hide his discomfort.
The man quoted matter-of-factly: “I am Theodore Edmond Connelly, agent with the Canadian Security Intelligence Service.” He stopped, before adding darkly: “Though Mesmo would know me by another name.” He sighed, seeming bored: “Nothing that concerns you, though.”
Grampa stared at him in disgust and said between gritted teeth: “What do you want?” His breath was quickening behind the oxygen mask.
Connelly bent over until he was face to face with Grampa, his voice coming in a slow, intense growl: “I want Mesmo!”
Cold sweat pearled Grampa’s forehead. Something odd was happening with the fake doctor’s eyes. They were switching from green to honey-brown, then back to green.
Connelly continued: “I know that you know who I am talking about. I want Mesmo! And you’re going to tell me where I can find him!”
Grampa gritted his teeth as he struggled to take off the oxygen mask.
“How can you know Mesmo?” He argued: “No-one at the CSIS knows Mesmo. You’re lying! Who are you, really?”
Now Connelly smiled at him coldly, pleased that Grampa was coming to his own conclusions. Something odd was happening to his head: whereas he had been bald a minute ago, now white, prickly hair was sticking out of it. He looked away in the distance, seeming to remember something pleasant. “Let’s just say,” he began, “that I am the one who made sure Mesmo’s spaceships crashed into a million pieces onto your fields on the night of The Cosmic Fall.” He turned to Grampa again, waiting for his words to sink in. His eyes were honey-brown again and the muscle on the side of his neck was twitching abnormally.