Aris Returns

by Devin Morgan

  I stayed with the gentlemen of the court. They continued to drink quantities of wine. The festivities went on until, as the sky grew light, they left the chamber one by one, staggering to their rooms to sleep the morning away. Thereafter, the King spoke rarely of Elizabeth.

  But it seemed it was not quite so that the King and Queen should have a healthy son. They never had another child together and, in the end, that was the demise of their marriage and the end of her life.

  Shortly after her birth, Elizabeth was sent to her own household. Anne once again returned to court seemingly unscathed to Queen it over us all.

  “And now Sarah, I will ask you a question.”There was a silent pause. “What do you intend on doing with all of this information that you gather?”

  “I… I am using it to help Carlos.” She stammered when she answered.

  “Are you? Or are you using Carlos to be closer to me? Think about it Sarah. Just take some time to honestly ask yourself the reason why.”

  CHAPTER 31

  She raced up the steps of the hospital, pushing her way through the revolving door. The woman behind the reception desk had short gray hair with tight curls. She was wearing a pink smock. Sarah wondered at herself, noticing such inane things when she was in the middle of a crisis.

  “Colleen Stevens-Drake. What room is she in?”

  The woman checked the computer then, replied, “Third floor, room 316A.”

  “Thank you,” Sarah’s reply missed its mark. Her words hit thin air as she turned to hurry toward the elevator. Glancing at her watch as the door opened, she realized it hadn’t been a half hour since she received Bob’s phone call.

  She picked up the panic in his voice when he told her Colleen was in the hospital. There had been a car accident, a hit and run. Bob was on his way to the hospital when he called Sarah. His wife was going to be okay but she was really banged up and scared. Sarah had never seen her friend frightened of anything, ever.

  The elevator dinged as the doors slid opened at the third floor. Sarah stepped off, checking up and down the hall for room numbers. She hurried toward the door, barely avoiding a food cart standing in the middle of the aisle.

  She stopped for a moment just outside the room to compose herself. When she felt more calm, she tapped on the closed door very lightly, waiting to hear an invitation to come in.

  Colleen’s voice was soft and sleepy when she answered. Sarah opened the door, not knowing what to expect. She was stunned to see her friend bandaged from head to toe, propped up on pillows in her bed. She had an oxygen tube in her nose. What little was visible of her face above the bandages was already turning black and blue.

  “Hey, I’m happy to see you.” She slurred her words through the medications she was given to ease the pain. “Bob’s not here yet but he’s on the way.”

  “Don’t talk honey.” Sarah sat next to her in one of the visitor’s chairs. She held Colleen’s uninjured hand. She could see tears trying to fight their way out of her bruised, swollen eyes. “It’s going to be alright, C. It’s going to be fine. You’re hurt but you’re going to be just fine.”

  “I lost the baby.” Her words were soft, filled with tragedy.

  “Baby? I thought you weren’t sure.”

  “I just left the doctor’s office when I was hit. She told me it was for certain. And now . . . ” She burst into tears just as the door opened and Bob came into the room. Sarah moved aside to let him near his wife.

  Colleen spoke to Bob through her tears. “I lost the baby. I lost our baby.”

  Sarah saw Bob’s eyes fill. She knew they needed to be alone. “I’ll be down in the cafeteria getting some coffee. When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting there.”

  Bob reached for her, hugging her tightly. When he let her go, she picked up her bag from the chair and left the room.

  #

  She saw Bob enter the large lunch room. She stood to wave to him. He saw her, nodded and moved toward her table. Sitting across from her, he buried his head in his hands. When he looked up, his cheeks were wet with tears.

  “We just hung up the phone. She was so excited when the doctor told her she was really pregnant, she couldn’t wait to tell me. She called me before she got dressed to leave the office. She was so happy.” He buried his face once again. “Oh Sarah, she’s so banged up. Her arm’s broken. She’s got a fractured ankle and her shoulder is just about torn out of the socket. She’s so little and so hurt.”

  Sarah rose from her chair. She circled the table to stoop down next to Bob. She put her hand on his shoulder as she spoke, “I know. I know. But she is okay. She’ll heal. It’s awful but she will heal.” Her words were meant to comfort her friend but they did little to bring comfort to her. How could anyone demolish a car like that and just leave? “Did anyone see it happen?”

  “Yeah, the police report showed two witnesses. They both said the same thing: someone in a dark colored two door car, no make, no year. Nothing else. They were so stunned that neither of them got the model or the license plate so we’re at the starting gate without a bell. I don’t even know where to go from here, but I’m going to find her and fry her.”

  “We’ve got to keep it together for Colleen right now. Are you assigned to the case?”

  “No, but the detectives are all my buddies and I’ve got a hand in it.” His voice was vicious through his tears. Sarah wrapped her arms around him, comforting him as best she could.

  #

  “I can’t believe how bad she’s beat up.” Carlos shook his head side to side. “She looks like she was hit by a train, not a car.”

  “When did you see her?” Sarah placed the coffee mugs on her coffee table as they sat side by side on the sofa.

  “Yesterday. She looks like a little kid in the middle of all those bandages. She was smiling. She told me she was glad I was there but I could see she is miserable.” He sighed. “Do they have any leads at all?”

  “None. How can two people see something like that and neither of them catch the car make or the license number? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Bob was at the hospital. He sure is crazy about her.”

  “Yeah.” She turned to look into his eyes, afraid to ask the question that had been on her mind since morning. “You don’t think this has anything to do with your old street gang, do you?”

  He was silent a moment, then answered. “No, they’re a bad bunch but they wouldn’t go after a woman.” He looked out the window when he spoke.

  “Are you sure? I mean after that thing with your brother.” She didn’t want to tell him about her encounter with his old pal.

  “Sure, they got him drunk and high and they’d steal anything, but they wouldn’t hurt a woman.”

  She hoped he was right.

  #

  “I’m so glad they let you come home today. Would you like some tea or something?” Sarah brushed Colleen’s hair as she sat up in her bed.

  “No, I’ve got water here. That’s all I want right now.” Sarah fluffed her pillows and she settled into them, careful of her injuries. She wanted to keep the conversation light and easy. She asked, “So what’s going on with the handsome one?”

  “Just the usual.” Sarah smiled to herself, wondering what her friend would say if she knew exactly what the usual was. “He’s coming along fine.”

  “Any insight to the anger stuff?”

  “A little. Hey, what about you? Any new info on the hit and run driver?”

  “We’re not really sure. One of the witnesses says she thought it was a really young woman driving, but Bob says what makes her think that now when she didn’t know right after it happened. I tend to agree with him. Then the other witness said he remembered it was an elderly woman driving the car. Who knows?”

  Sarah placed the hairbrush on the night stand. She sat on the side of the king-size bed. “How are you feeling about… everything?” She didn’t want to mention the miscarriage but she wanted to make sure her best friend was feeling reconciled with it. />
  “I’m still sad. And sorry. But there’s nothing I can do about it now. I’m lucky there’s nothing wrong with me so we can try again. One thing I know for sure, I am finally ready to settle down and be a mother. Enough running around with gangsters.” She smiled. “Except our one special one.”

  “Yeah, he really is a good guy. He’s so frightened. Part of it is from his past and part from his present. I only hope I can help him to fight the fear, to come to the other side of it.” She paused. “Colleen, do you think he would become involved with his old friends again?” Colleen looked at her with questioning eyes. “Not that I think he has or anything, I just wonder what he would do if they tried to get him to join them again.”

  “What do you know that I don’t know? I’ve asked you that before and you always evade the question.”

  “I know a lot and I can’t discuss it. But I can tell you this; nothing that I have discussed with him leads me to believe he would go back.”

  “Then why do you ask me over and over again if I think he would?”

  Before Sarah could answer, Bob’s voice called from the kitchen. “Hey Sarah, come here. I need help to carry in the food.” Happy to have his wife home, he left work early to prepare dinner for her and her best friend. They planned a bedroom picnic on the king-size bed. They were going to watch a movie to celebrate.

  Glad not to have to answer her friend’s question, she hurried from the room. “On my way, Bob.”

  #

  CARLOS HAVARRO, transcript, session 21, August 6

  The golden sand glistened like window glass in the noonday sun. The Queen sat under the royal canopy to protect her fair skin from the heat. Her ladies sat readily near her should she need attending. It appeared there were thousands of people come for the entertainment, the pageantry of the joust. There were merchants hawking their wares and flower girls selling their poseys. The courtiers bet heavily on their favorites as the knights prepared for the challenge and their men prepared for the promenade before the royal box.

  On this day, I was not a participant so I enjoyed watching the event from just behind the canopy’s shadow. The Queen smiled. She tossed her head as lords and gentry approached to greet her, to introduce their ladies. As the standards flew on the flagstaffs, their colors undulated in the wind. The fabrics made sharp cracking sounds as the sudden gusts slapped them against the polished wood of the poles. There was laughter and bantering from every corner as Anne ruled - the Queen of Charm - sitting high above it all.

  Suddenly, the sounding of trumpets. The knights mounted. Another fanfare as they rode into the arena at a gallop. Their armor glistened in the morning light and the saddles of their great horses were polished until even the leather gleamed like jewels. The lords and challengers reined in quickly so their horses reared, pawing the air with their front feet. I ached to mount, to ride, to once again be champion of the joust, but this was not the day for me. The Queen asked me to stay with her. I knew there was a greater purpose to her request than the pleasure of my company.

  The knights and lords promenaded before beginning the tournament, some even employed bards to tell a poem or sing of their bravery. The trumpets sounded the King’s fanfare as he made his way into the arena. All rose to greet him. He bellowed a hearty laugh. The ladies of the court dressed in Tudor green and white followed in a wagon appointed to resemble a forest glen. Their dresses glistened in the sunlight as it shined down on the metallic threads and jewels bedecking their gowns.

  The crowd grew silent as the King dismounted to make his way toward the Queen.

  She rose and curtsied. He kissed her hand. A roar of approval went up from the crowd. The radiant King sat, merry in the morning light, motioning Anne to sit beside him. No sooner was he seated than he was handed wine and sweetmeats. The King did not ever sit for long without eating and drinking as if being seated had only the purpose of being fed.

  Once more the knights circled the arena with the heralds shouting their titles. Each knight rode before the royal box presenting their arms while Anne had something personal to say to each man. Her dark eyes glistened as she tilted her head, flirting with each of the champions. The crowd was in an uproar when the last knight left the arena, ready for the jousting to begin.

  The King rose, moving to his personal box across from the Queen. He chatted with the men surrounding him, his favorites, as two knights prepared for the first challenge. When all was ready, he rose. The crowd grew silent once more. He raised his great gauntlet above his head, paused a moment, then gestured toward the Queen, bestowing the honor of the calling of the joust upon her. The crowd thundered with cheers, stomping feet and clapping hands.

  The two contenders waited at either end of the jousting line, their horses pawing the sand. Anne rose and with a flourish, dropped her glove. The knights spurred their horses as the huge beasts thundered toward one another. Each rider balanced his lance, preparing for the moment of contact. The sound of armor being hit echoed through the arena like thunder. One of the knights was knocked from his horse but there was no wound, no bleeding. Being one of the King’s personal guards, I was constantly with the court and I had not fed for days. I worried that the smell of blood would incite my hunger. I stepped back on the platform as the vanquished knight lay in the sand. I was safe for the moment. His man helped him from the field, nothing broken, nothing cut.

  The Queen sensed my movement. She called me close to her once again. As the next two champions prepared for the challenge, she motioned me nearer still so she could whisper to me. “Aris, I have another mission for you.” She caught my eye, her lips curled up in a malevolent smile. “Are you prepared to once again be my own special champion?”

  I lowered my head, speaking quietly, “I am always prepared to be your champion, my Lady.”

  She touched my arm. “Very well, I will call on you soon,” she turned her attention to the joust.

  I stepped into the shadows behind her, gazing around the arena wondering which poor knave was the next to die.

  “Sarah.” She was called back to present time at the sound of her name. “I am prepared to be your own champion and I swear, I will find a way to be with you in your own time.”

  Her heart pounded at the thought of being with him. She whispered, “It seems, Aris, that all things may be possible.” She wondered what it would be like to stand in the presence of the vampire. To be held in his arms. To be kissed by his immortal lips. A hot flush spread over her body at the thought.

  #

  Carlos sat in his usual chair across from her. The lights in the other office buildings came on one by one as the sky grew dark. She sipped from her mug of tea. He toyed with his soda can, spinning it mindlessly in his hand. He enjoyed the time he spent with her after his hypnotic sessions.

  “So, what’s going on now?”

  She was surprised at the gruff tone to his voice. She answered quickly, “Going on?”

  He placed the soda can on the corner of her desk. He leaned back in his chair, his long legs sprawled, his hands resting on his belt. “So what’s up with you and this Aris character?”

  “Carlos, you’re talking about him as if he were someone else. He is you.”

  He tipped his head and stared at her. He finally spoke. “So I’m a thousand-year-old vampire, huh? Sarah, I’ve told you before, you need some therapy.” He laughed, reaching for the soda once again.

  “You know exactly what I mean. He’s a part of your subconscious.” She stood and paced in front of the window. “It’s a deeper part of you telling us a story. But that story has a deep meaning for you today. I think we’re on the brink to discover what that meaning is and how it relates to what is going on in your life right now.”

  “Sarah, do you honestly believe that? I mean that all this vampire crap can have something to do with why my life’s so screwed up?”

  “First of all, your life is getting better all the time. You have a job. You’re out of trouble. Colleen told me you’ve even done some
sketches. I didn’t know you could draw.”

  He glanced at the floor before he met her eyes, “Yeah, well I never tried before. That day at the museum got me thinking so I started messing around with a pencil. Picked up a couple of books at the bookstore. I got a lot of tips from there.” He looked embarrassed. “I’m not good or anything. It’s just something to do in my spare time.”

  “Colleen said they were very good. Will you bring them in to show me?”

  “Sure,” he stood, moving toward the door.

  “Carlos, what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing Sarah, just quit trying to make me into something I’m not. I’m no artist.” He turned the knob and left the room. The door clicked softly as he closed it.

  CHAPTER 32

  Sarah looked out her window, sipping morning coffee. Sunday’s were always quiet. The newspaper was scattered around her on her bed. She tried to read but she couldn’t concentrate. Her thoughts were full of Aris and Carlos and the man of her intense dreams. Carlos and Aris. How did the one fit with the other? So different, yet so alike.

  It had been months and Aris continued to be a dominating force in the sessions. Sarah thought another subconscious story might surface eventually, but it didn’t. She knew their work together greatly reduced Carlos’ anger, his frustration. She saw definite changes in him. So did he and he appreciated them. He liked his newfound discipline, his work ethic. He was taking night classes, excelling in them. His world was expanding as his knowledge was growing.

  His confidence was coming from his personal growth, his self- awareness, not his fists and his anger. He began to see himself as a man with inner strength, to understand that there were more important things than being part of a pack of petty criminals. He kept his word and his job. He read books and searched to find a deeper part of himself. Yet it seemed that in his subconscious, there was no one but Aris.

  And Aris? What of this being? What about the stories he told? How did Carlos know about things happening five hundred years ago? She never before questioned her findings with her clients. She knew their stories were from the subconscious, authenticity wasn’t important, just content. But his hypnotic tales weren’t just stories. She was being taught history by someone who was there. How? Why?