Semblance

by Logan Patricks

  Everyone deserved to have his or her personal skeletons buried and laid to rest, Shadow included.

  Who was I kidding?

  “Fuck,” I muttered as I gave into the temptation and ripped open the envelope, uncovering the mysterious contents inside.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I had done my due diligence on Shadow before our first date.

  Google didn’t provide much information, aside from him being a reclusive billionaire and owner of the Tremaine estate along with his sister Calisto. I did manage to dig out an obituary for both his parents; the circumstances of their deaths were unknown.

  On the pixelated screen, he seemed like any other rich and powerful businessman—boring.

  In person however, Shadow was an enigma.

  Curious to learn more about this mystery man, I scanned through the contents of the envelope that Lucien gave me.

  It was a full transcript of a session between Shadow and a psychiatrist.

  I was intrigued.

  “This is wrong,” I muttered to myself. “I should respect his privacy.” I continued reading it anyway.

  From the files of Dr. Frederick Rosenburg, Professor of Psychiatry at the University of Morality, Moral City.

  Subject: Shadow Tremaine. Age thirteen, suffering from severe posttraumatic stress disorder.

  Dr. Rosenburg: Hello Shadow. How have you been?

  Shadow: Fine.

  Dr. Rosenburg: How have classes been at the Academy?

  Shadow: Good.

  Dr. Rosenburg: No troubles with the other students?

  (silence)

  Dr. Rosenburg: Your headmaster contacted me the other day telling me that you’ve been in several fights recently. Do you want to talk about them?

  (silence)

  Dr. Rosenburg: Okay, we don’t have to. Is there anything you want to discuss? It’s been a while since our last meeting and I’m sure there must be a lot of things on your mind.

  (silence)

  Dr. Rosenburg: How has your sister been doing?

  Shadow: Good.

  Dr. Rosenburg: She’s been doing well in her classes it seems. I’m also hearing that she’s making quite a lot of friends. Are you happy for her?

  Shadow: I guess so.

  Dr. Rosenburg: Wouldn’t you like to make some friends yourself? Some people you can talk to and play with?

  Shadow: I have no time for friends.

  Dr. Rosenburg: Of course you do Shadow. You should be out playing sports, reading books, going to movies.

  Shadow: A waste of time.

  Dr. Rosenburg: What would you rather be doing?

  Shadow: Finding the person who murdered my parents and setting them on fire.

  Dr. Rosenburg: And why would you rather be doing that?

  Shadow: Because they deserve to die.

  Dr. Rosenburg: The anniversary of your parent’s death is coming up in a few days. That day must be hard for both you and your sister.

  (silence)

  Dr. Rosenburg: Are you upset that your parent’s killer hasn’t been caught yet?

  Shadow: No.

  Dr. Rosenburg: Why not?

  Shadow: Because I want to find the killer myself and cut off the hands he used to kill my mom and dad. And then I’m going to tie him to a chair, pour gasoline over him, and set him on fire. If the cops catch him, they’ll throw him in prison where he’ll grow old and die. He’ll never get what he deserves.

  Dr. Rosenburg: Revenge won’t bring your parents back Shadow. You understand that, don’t you?

  Shadow: Yes doctor. I know my parents are gone. I also know that if this killer is dead too, he’ll never be able to murder someone else’s parents again.

  Dr. Rosenburg: Does it make you sad thinking of hurting someone else instead of enjoying what life has to offer?

  Shadow: Life has nothing to offer me.

  Dr. Rosenburg: Life has plenty to offer you Shadow. Can you close your eyes Shadow, just for a moment?

  Shadow: Why?

  Dr. Rosenburg: Trust me.

  Shadow: I don’t trust anyone.

  Dr. Rosenburg: I’m your friend Shadow. You can trust me.

  Shadow: Would you still be my friend if you weren’t getting paid a thousand bucks every time we meet?

  Dr. Rosenburg: Please. Close your eyes.

  Shadow: Fine.

  Dr. Rosenburg: Good. Now I want you to picture yourself standing on the top of a green, grassy hill. There’s a gentle breeze blowing as the warmth of the sun’s rays shines down on your skin. Far off in the distance is a beautiful blue ocean, the sounds of water bringing you both peace and tranquility. As you stand there, I want you to picture the fresh smells of—

  Shadow: This is a bunch of crap.

  Dr. Rosenburg: You were doing so well.

  Shadow: No, I wasn’t. What you don’t realize is that every time I close my eyes, the only thing I can picture are my parents, lying on the floor, blood draining from my father’s open neck and the multiple holes in my mom’s body. Their blood mixed together looks like red, rusted paint. Their eyes are both open. They look terrified. I always thought my father was never afraid of anything, but the truth is, my father was afraid of dying. I saw it on his face.

  Dr. Rosenburg: Are you afraid of dying Shadow?

  Shadow: I’m afraid of dying before I catch the fucker that ruined my life.

  Dr. Rosenburg: Your life isn’t ruined. Just look at your sister. She’s doing very well for herself. I want you to use her as both inspiration and means of support.

  Shadow: My sister never saw my parent’s bodies. I was the one who discovered them. But I’m glad it happened that way, and that Calisto doesn’t know the horrors surrounding their death. Did you know the cops said that my dad was stabbed in the throat first and as he was dying, the killer tried sawing off his head with the knife? That was why my dad’s head was tilted back at such a weird angle.

  Dr. Rosenburg: The police should never have told you such a thing.

  Shadow: I’m a Tremaine, doctor. If I want information on something, I’ll find a way to get it.

  Dr. Rosenburg: Perhaps we should increase the frequency of our sessions.

  Shadow: Why? So you can double the money you earn? I don’t think so.

  Dr. Rosenburg: Shadow, I’m here to help you. I want you to get better.

  Shadow: I don’t want to get better. I want to stay angry so when I find this guy, I can torture him. I want him to suffer and I want him to burn.

  Dr. Rosenburg: Violence will solve nothing. Let’s revisit your past week at the Academy. Your headmaster said you beat up one of your classmates the other day.

  Shadow: He said something about my mother.

  Dr. Rosenburg: And hitting him was the first thing you decided to do?

  Shadow: No. Telling him to shut up was the first thing I decided to do. When he refused, I decided to kick his ass.

  Dr. Rosenburg: And what did that solve?

  Shadow: He stopped talking about my mom on account of his broken jaw. . I’m also pretty sure he won’t do it again.

  Dr. Rosenburg: It looks like we have a lot of work to do still over the coming months.

  Shadow: No, we don’t. This is our last session.

  Dr. Rosenburg: Only your guardian can make—

  Shadow: I always liked puppets, doctor, because you could make them dance and move whenever you wanted them to.

  Dr. Rosenburg: I don’t understand.

  Shadow: My guardian agrees with me. This session is finished now and forever. Please, enjoy the BMW that’s waiting for you out on the driveway.

  End Transcript.

  Holy shit.

  I was stunned. No wonder Shadow was brooding all the time. I thought of the way he described the torture of Julia’s killer, almost like he wished he had participated. After picking my jaw off the park ground, I rushed home and looked up any information regarding the murders of Tristan and Sienna Tremaine.

  There was no mention of it anywhere.
It was like that part of their history was erased from the archives of the Internet.

  As I sat there staring at the transcript while trying to digest the information from it, my cell phone rang.

  It was Abraham.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you Ms. Valencia,” he said cheerfully.

  “I wasn’t doing anything important,” I lied. Snooping into Shadow’s life was very important. “I’m just sitting around reading slutty books.”

  “Well, I won’t bother you too long then. Shadow has requested that for your next date, you pack three nights worth of clothes and also suggests they be garments that you don’t mind sweating into.”

  “What?”

  “I’m only the messenger,” Abraham said. “And perhaps you should bring a couple of those slutty books as well. It’s about a sixteen hour flight time to the destination of your next date.”

  “You’re kidding right? Where are we going?”

  “That my dear, is a surprise,” Abraham said before adding, “Just make sure you have all your hepatitis shots.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cambodia. We were heading to Cambodia, which I realized after boarding one of Shadow’s private jets.

  Abraham sat in the aisle adjacent to me, newspaper in hand, busy skimming through the headlines.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to Cambodia,” I said with excitement. “I have to admit, I don’t know much about the country.”

  Abraham set the newspaper down on his lap and looked at me thoughtfully.

  “It’s a beautiful country, with many ancient temple ruins that will take your breath away. However it has a tragic past,” he sighed. “In the late seventies, a guerilla army under the leadership of a mad man named Pol Pot took control of the kingdom of Cambodia. During this period, they murdered over two million people, specifically targeting anyone who showed any forms of education or intelligence.”

  “That’s insane; two million?”

  Abraham nodded. “Pol Pot was insane. It’s funny how the leadership of one man can destroy a once promising nation, crippling it for many years after. To this day, Cambodia still struggles to recuperate from the Cambodian holocaust.”

  “All it takes is one crazy man,” I agreed. I suddenly thought of Shadow and the interview I had read.

  “Despite the tragedy that occurred over thirty years ago, the country itself is simply stunning. There are many ancient ruins to explore, situated deep in the jungles and exotic foods that will stimulate your palate. It’s also the Cambodian New Year this weekend and the streets will be filled with celebrations.”

  “How do you know so much about Cambodia?” I asked.

  “I travel there frequently,” Abraham replied. “I’ve been trying to bring work to the country for some time now. I want to expand their knowledge of business and technology. Cambodia can’t live off of tourism alone to sustain itself.”

  “You’re such a good guy.”

  “I do what I can,” Abraham replied. “I have over forty years of bad karma to make up for. Take this old man’s advice, live a life you can look back on and not regret a single thing. Don’t end up like me, spending the twilight of my years making amends for the sins that’ll haunt me until the day I die.”

  His words resonated with pain and I thought of Julia, his only daughter murdered by the hands of a pedophile. I wanted to say something to comfort him, but making any mention of her would break my promise to Shadow about keeping my lips sealed.

  So instead, I nodded in agreement.

  “I must excuse myself,” Abraham said with a smile. “I’m absolutely exhausted. I stayed up late finishing a series of books about a boy wizard that were absolutely fabulous.”

  “You’re living life with a young heart,” I laughed.

  “Absolutely,” Abraham said. “Now pardon me while I rest my weary bones. There are sleeping compartments in the back of the plane, should you wish to nap. As soon as our other tardy passenger arrives, the flight will take off.”

  I watched as Abraham strolled through the curtains to the back of the plane. I had nothing but time to kill. I had my books in my bag, but was too tired to read, so instead I placed my headphones in my ears, closed my eyes, and allowed the music to take me away.

  Two songs later, I heard a cheerful voice overpower the sounds of my music.

  “Aria! Or should I call you the Golden Virgin? What a pleasant surprise.”

  It was Lincoln Richards, sporting a handsome grey jacket. He held a thin laptop in his hand. I pulled the earphones out of my ears and smiled.

  “Lincoln,” I said, “Or should I say Mr. Fox?”

  “What classics are you listening too? Chopin? Mozart? Some Berlioz maybe?”

  “Calvin Harris,” I replied. “Love his bright, blasting beats.”

  “And here I thought you were a classical music snob,” Lincoln laughed. “I tried for a while to sign Mr. Harris to my record label but alas, he slipped out of my fingers.”

  “I enjoy all types of music, well maybe except country. Something about the twang that annoys the shit out of me,” I said. “Why don’t you sit? No offense but having you standing over me for the duration of a sixteen hour flight is rather unsettling.”

  Lincoln sat down in the same seat Abraham was in moments ago.

  “Seat’s warm,” he noticed.

  “Abraham went to the back to take a nap,” I replied. “What brings you on this flight? Are you going temple exploring as well?”

  He shook his head and smiled. “I explored all the temples a couple of years ago. It was grueling but very rewarding as well. I take it you’ll be meeting Shadow in Siem Riep?”

  “Where?”

  “It’s the more touristic centric region of Cambodia.”

  “Oh,” I replied. “Right; I don’t know too much about the country aside from some crazy guy named Pot Pie who murdered millions of people.”

  “Pol Pot,” Lincoln corrected me. “I guess Abraham gave you the twenty second verbal wiki.”

  “He did,” I replied. “So what are you doing here? Are you going to be a third wheel on my date with Shadow?”

  “Tempting, but sadly there’s work to be done,” Lincoln said. “I’m helping Abraham with some accounting issues before he can get his Cambodian businesses up and running.”

  “So you’re one of the good guys as well.”

  “Hardly,” Lincoln smiled. “But I have a hard time saying ‘no’ to the old man. After that it’s off to Japan for some Society business with James Takeshi, whom you met at Shadow’s birthday party.”

  “Right, he was the owner of Takeshi Electronics.”

  “One and the same.”

  I paused for a moment, wondering if Lincoln would answer some burning questions I had about the Midnight Society. Ah fuck it; what did I have to lose?

  “Who are you people?”

  “We’re businessmen,” Lincoln replied.

  “Why do I feel like the entire suit and tie image is a mask you wear,” I said. “I want to know more about the Midnight Society. Every time I ask Shadow or Abraham, they refuse to give me any information about it.”

  “And what makes you think you can get information out of me?” Lincoln asked.

  “How about a good, old fashion barter?” I suggested. “I offer you some sort of payment and in return you provide me with the information I want.”

  Lincoln chuckled at my proposal. “Sorry, not to sound like I’m on a golden horse, but I don’t think there’s anything of value that you could offer me in exchange. I swore a blood oath never to divulge any secrets to outsiders, and I take that blood oath very seriously.”

  “I can give you information.”

  Lincoln tapped his temple with his index finger and smiled. “There’s not much information that I haven’t digested already. I do have a good memory.”

  “It’s not information you can get from reading a book,” I said. “I know that you have a thing for Calisto. At Shadow’s birthday party, I saw
the way you hovered around Calisto for most of the night. I also know that she’s not your typical girl that you can easily figure out.”

  “I guess I’m not as subtle as I thought myself to be,” Lincoln sighed.

  “So here’s the deal. I’ll get closer to Calisto, find out what she wants in a man, feed you this information, and in return you answer my questions about the Society.”

  Lincoln thought for a moment. “Three questions only,” he finally said.

  “Agreed,” I nodded.

  I extended my hand out to Lincoln and he gripped it with a firm handshake.

  “Great. So I have my first question,” I said. Lincoln looked surprised.

  “Now?”

  “Yes. Consider it a deposit. If I’m going to be a spy, I’ll need some payment up front.”

  Lincoln shrugged his shoulders. “Fine; What’s your question?”

  “Why does Lucien hate Shadow so much?”

  “You couldn’t ask an easier question first?” Lincoln said, more as a statement than a question.

  “I want to know the dirt behind those two.”

  “You swear that any secret information provided to you will never leave your lips?”

  “I swear,” I replied.

  Lincoln leaned back in his seat and thought about it for a moment.

  “I’ve always believed that the order of balance in the universe required both harmony and conflict,” Lincoln began. “There is one person in everybody’s lives that’s destined to make you happy and on the flip side, there’s also one person whose sole purpose in life is to torture you.”

  “Who gives you grief?” I asked.

  Lincoln smiled. “Why that’s a silly question. Isn’t it obvious? It’s Calisto,” he said. “Some people fit in both categories.”

  “I don’t get it, if she causes you so much suffering, why do you want to be with her?”

  “I’m a glutton for punishment,” he replied.

  “Guys are fucking weird.”

  “Is it any different than a girl going for the sexy and dangerous bad boy instead of the safe, intelligent Poindexter?”