Hadrian's Wall

by Felicia Jensen

  Charity pulled off of the road and parked the Porsche a few yards from the gates.

  I looked down at the panthers. The difference between these and those on the other side of the cliff is that their faces are turned towards the horizon, as if watching for something that might come from far away. Three of them were distributed symmetrically around and above the huge gates, forming an elaborate porch.

  The fourth panther—the biggest of all didn’t have yellow eyes like the others. His eyes were precisely cut green quartz. He stood out in front of the gates...lonely, as if he was planning to quietly leave the property. Its position made a kind of passage for each blade of the gate. I assumed that on the one hand, cars could exit and on the other hand, enter...or vice versa. Charity’s voice broke my concentration.

  “I can’t take you to the mansion because there is a specific security protocol that must be followed. I would have to ask permission to bring you onto the property and once that permission has been given, you will have to be prepared.”

  I didn’t get what she was telling me, so I shrugged, as if it didn’t matter that I saw the mansion. Perhaps such protocol involves what one can or cannot do beyond those gates, like the procedures for visiting the White House or Buckingham Palace. No, thanks! I wasn’t interested in dealing with protocols.

  “It’s okay, don’t worry,” I said. “Just curious, why do you do all this? I know you people are rich, but...”

  That’s overkill! I completed my own thought.

  “It’s natural that very rich people have enemies,” she began... “or opponents, you might say...” She hesitated and when she resumed, her voice was somber. “A few years ago, there was an attack...an attempt made on my uncle’s life.”

  Her hesitation didn’t pass unnoticed. The event must have been serious, of course. Was that the reason why Adrian Senior became ill? Charity didn’t seem afraid of what happened to her uncle, but she was definitely angry. I swear I could see her eyes flashing behind the mirrored lenses of her sunglasses.

  “Since then,” she continued, “Stephen has taken full responsibility for the family’s safety. He selected and trained an elite team of bodyguards. All of the team members are descendants of the first families who came with Cahill to America. They all live on this property.

  Stephen...that name was not unfamiliar to me.

  “He is your cousin, too, right?”

  “Yes. Stephen and Vincent are my cousins. Their parents died and Adrian’s mother adopted them as her own children before she died.”

  She stared at me. Her family pride overflowed when she said, “You see, the Cahills are responsible for their people, but their people also protect us. We are the pillar of this community. In many ways, we still live like a real clan with its ‘fortified castle’ behind the village where families find refuge in times of...” She took a deep breath before finishing. “...times of war.”

  Interesting...creepy, but interesting. I could even imagine the scenario that she described...and the scene! I remembered countless nights watching a succession of movies to escape from my nightmares...tiptoeing to the TV room and spending the night in the company of old Hollywood stars. Teachers always questioned why I kept falling asleep during the lessons. They thought it was because of my...mental problem and somehow, they were right.

  I believe I watched too many movies, epics, or adventure...from Errol Flynn to Christopher Lambert. As far as I know, during the Middle Ages, the castle walls were meant to protect the families who lived in the surrounding village. The feudal lord was the great protector of his people—or at least, should have been.

  The clans were formed by large families, which included neighbors, servants, and entire families of tenants, thus constituting the basis of a whole community. It was common for people living in the same village to be cousins in varying degrees, as well as brothers, uncles, nephews, bastards...all with the same surname.

  “The burden of responsibility over AC shoulders is enormous,” Charity said, interrupting my reverie. “Someday, the people here will depend on Adrian. Obligation comes like an inheritance, but can be seen as a curse. Therefore, he is committed to such... authority and everything else that comes with it.” She spoke with caution, as if weighing each word.

  I reflected about what she’d said. To be able to manage such a legacy, he would have to be a very disciplined man, patient, and above all, very determined. Not only were mountains of money involved, but the jobs and the lives of the people who serve the Cahill family.

  For a moment, I felt sorry for Adrian. Before, I had been mocking the wealth or perhaps the ostentatiousness of the Cahill family, Charity’s clothes, her predilections...but maybe I was spurning them more to protect myself than by voicing my contempt. The thing was like “sour grapes”—now I was seeing that there was no reason to envy them. Yes, they were living a glamorous, celebrity life, but it could also be a lonely one. Even though they’re surrounded by so many people, it would be sad if they didn’t know who to trust.

  Suddenly, an almost imperceptible buzz sounded and the majestic gates began to open slowly. A magnificent graphite-colored car, the kind you only see in action movies, was flying down the road at full speed. It braked sharply and cut in front of Charity’s Porsche. I looked at her and was astonished to see that she remained absolutely calm.

  A black Range Rover appeared behind the Porsche.

  Hmmm... Charity’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the Range Rover. It was as if she could see through the tinted windows. “Today is Justus and Russell’s turn to watch his back.”

  My jaw dropped in astonishment. How did she know who was following whom? Ah, sure, the kind of car. There was no way to see through the glass...none at all!

  The graphite gray car remained stopped in the middle of the asphalt roadway. The driver gunned the engine twice, but the vehicle did not move. Charity laughed. Until that moment, I didn’t even realize that they were carrying on a “dialogue” between them. I was too focused on the tinted windows, trying to see what was going on inside the car. I suspected who the driver was, even before she told me.

  He honked and gunned the engine again. Charity responded with two light touches on her horn and that was it. He sped off down the road, closely followed by the Range Rover.

  “As you can see, AC also likes cars,” she said casually. “I think he’s going to the hospital. He must be on duty today.”

  “That was stealth on wheels! You guys really like cars, don’t you?”

  She nodded, smiling.

  “But, unlike me, he prefers luxury sports cars with lots of horsepower and preferably those that aren’t officially on the market. Adrian loves attending auto shows...” She gave me a sly smile. “That’s a Lamborghini Reventon Roadster. It means that AC doesn’t have patience for subtleties today. He wants action.”

  “How do you know?”

  Charity laughed and raised an eyebrow, looking like one who knows a secret...or many secrets!

  “He has a small collection of cars, one for every mood or for every occasion, you might say.”

  Well then, he’s not just a rich boy, or a mere millionaire, he’s a billionaire! With every bit of information I was receiving about him, more and more I realized that he was out of my league.

  “And the Range Rover?” I asked to distract me from my depressing thoughts.

  “Security,” she explained. “Adrian doesn’t like to be accompanied by bodyguards, but after that last incident... Moreover, he is the heir of an empire. Security has become essential to his wellbeing, even if it is an undesirable measure.”

  Heir to an empire...

  “Nobody would like that, I suppose... arriving at the college or the hospital surrounded by a battalion of bodyguards. It must be very embarrassing.”

  “There isn’t a battalion of bodyguards,” she objected, seeming uncomfortable about my comment. “Only a few were chosen. They constitute a very discreet group. They’re almost invisible.”

  �
�Invisible? Almost” Automatically, I looked back at the stretch of road where the F-150 was parked. Charity followed my gaze.

  “They are invisible when they want to be. That’s Stephen’s pickup. He’s escorting us today. Normally he takes care of AC exclusively, but given the circumstances, he wouldn’t allow another...” She bit her lip and fell silent.

  She looked as guilty as if she had blurted something that she shouldn’t... as if I could guess what it is. She was always talking in riddles.

  “Stephen is the head of security?” I asked.

  “Exactly. He’s escorting us through our tour around town.”

  My face must have reflected skepticism about his almost magical capabilities as a bodyguard, because she quickly added, “Okay, you noticed his pickup, but he’s so proficient that you didn’t notice him following us. In fact, he went into all the places where we’ve been today...even inside the museum.”

  My goodness! Now I’m impressed...

  Stephen Cahill. Uh huh! I had to admit that the guy was really good. I hadn’t spotted him anywhere. As Charity mentioned, I’d only noticed the pickup following us. I suspected that now Stephen was no longer interested in remaining invisible.

  I understand that whole the scheme was necessary because Charity couldn’t walk around without protection. The Clan could not falter and allow a possible kidnapping...or something much worse. I thought about living in the orphanage when I considered myself to be suffocating, but living as they live, like birds trapped in a golden cage...that’s got to be hard, no matter how much money they have.

  The more I listened, the more I saw the distance between Adrian’s world and mine increase. A guy like him was not for me. I wasn’t worthy, not could I be prepared to live in the kind of situation he lives in every day. Adrian Cahill was the perfect guy—a star, a god, a prince—an unattainable person. That’s it!

  Even knowing that it was an irremediable situation, I was depressed. It made no sense. I looked again at the horizon, seeing the sunset that would soon be gone. It was time to put aside what I couldn’t have and focus on my goals.

  “I’d like to ask a favor of you, Charity. I know you’re playing nanny for me against your will...”

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

  “No, please...don’t deny it. For some reason that I don’t understand, you look down on me. Believe me, I didn’t intend for Adrian or his father to involve themselves in my problems. In fact, I didn’t ask either of them to do anything on my behalf.” I thought it was a good time to clarify something that had been bothering me since the first time she visited me in the hospital. “But, if you’re willing to do me one favor, I would ask you...I would like to visit the Polish Man Springs Resort.

  An uncomfortable silence dominated the interior of the Porsche. For a few minutes, nothing happened and then abruptly she turned the car around and headed in a different direction. It was not until we’d gone a few miles before she spoke again.

  “I don’t disapprove of you, but AC’s happiness is very important to me. When I needed him, he was there for me.” Her tone of voice was emotionally charged when she continued. “Adrian saved my life. And the fact that he is...after so long...after so much suffering...the fact that he is interested in the wellbeing of a stranger, an unknown girl, that made me suspicious. I don’t want him to suffer again.”

  I tried to assimilate the meaning of her implausible words.

  “Come on! He just feels sorry for me. It’s pity, nothing else.”

  She looked at me askance, but remained silent.

  “It’s true, Charity! You have nothing to worry about. Adrian could never be interested in a girl like me.”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes.

  What nonsense! Surely, Charity didn’t really believe that her cousin was into me!

  The conversation died and a hush fell over the dubious void that was left by our words, but their vibration was there between lines, regardless of their absence. Only the sound of the wind was a constant, recognizable sign. The town was behind and when I thought we’d gone too far, a sign appeared on the roadside indicating the distance from this location to the Mountain of Polish Man and Saint Paul City.

  Charity’s phone rang.

  “Hello? Yes, I know. Change of plans. She wants to go to the resort. Okay, bye.” She hung up the phone and set it back in its base.

  Intuitively, I looked back in time to see the F-150 gaining on us. I wished the windows weren’t tinted because I wanted to see what Stephen looked like. Maybe like Adrian? I bet he was older and had a stern-looking face. At least, that’s how I imagined a bodyguard would look—maybe like Kevin Costner—a tough guy... competent, serious, with a heart of ice and nerves of steel.

  We made another turn and the Mountain of Polish Man became fully visible on the horizon—like a mountain island surrounded by a sea of pine trees. I completely forgot about Kevin Costner.

  The road parted the lush forest down the middle. The car plunged forward between the rows of trees that flanked the roadway, forming a sort of shield against the sunlight which barely permeated the branches. All that remained was submerged beneath them in the shadows, causing a sharp drop in temperature.

  I’d never seen anything like this before. Usually, trees grew somewhat apart from each other; however, this forest seemed to be straight out of a Brothers Grimm fairly tale—not real. The trees were too high, the branches too extensive, the green leaves too abundant. Fantastic!

  Charity removed her mirrored sunglasses before entering a hairpin turn. Another sign appeared, this one pointing to the resort.

  The Porsche was now on a dirt road that began to rise higher and higher, the road more curvy as we climbed until we passed by a group of buildings whose sloped roofs provided a unique visual to feast our eyes upon. To take advantage of the fall of the ground, all of the chalets were divided into symmetrical levels, with multiple roofs, separated only by the chimneys. We passed cottages with traditional clapboard siding, which gave me a sense of belonging... like I knew where I was, even if the scenario was as surreal as a fairytale.

  Mmmm... The visual effect it provided indicated to me that the Mountain of Polish Man complex had been very well planned. Judging by the architecture and ordering, it must have required a sizeable investment to build it. I dare say that this was a high-level guesthouse, intended for people who didn’t want to have to go anywhere else to find everything they needed or wanted. It was all there—entertainment, sports, leisure, shopping. How could anyone even begin to suggest that I had stayed in this place? Only if I’d won the lottery without knowing it.

  Suddenly the car stopped lurching as the roadway became smoother. The dirt road gave way to asphalt pavement at the same point that the steep hillside became surrounded by neatly trimmed shrubs.

  Charity parked in front of the largest building, which I assumed was the lobby. When I saw the national flag flying in front, my feeling of belonging came back. I jumped out of the car and waited for Charity near the steps.

  “Let me do the talking,” she said as she climbed the steps. Her command annoyed me. I was not a child or a disabled person. Just because she’s given me some clothes didn’t give her the right to... Shit! I hated owing favors to other people precisely because of this kind of situation, but now I had no choice but to chill out.

  The main entrance was constructed with dark wood. It was look like a hunting cabin, straight out of the Daniel Boone adventures. From where I was standing, I could see the front desk and the interior stairway. Ahead, an old beer barrel appeared, used as decoration in the lobby which was subdivided into two separate areas...similar to the upper terraces of the upper town in Hadrian’s Wall. I tried to imagine myself staying in a place like this, but it didn’t seem even remotely plausible.

  Anyone looking at the outside of this could never imagine its interior decor. It evoked thoughts of the strange but wonderful balance of architecture and urbanization presented throughout Hadrian’s Wal
l. The resort’s environment was no different. Everything there clashed and complemented at the same time.

  The girl at the front desk smiled at us.

  “Welcome to the Polish Man Springs Resort... Oh! How are you, Ms. Cahill? I see you’ve brought us a new guest!”

  New?

  “In fact...” Charity leaned on the counter, giving the girl a critical glance. “It seems that Melissa may have been a guest here before. We want to take a look at your guest register, please.”

  I would also like to know how much I owe the Resort,” I added.

  This was a dangerous game. Because I’d had no money to pay for lodging, if I had been a guest there, I owed them money. I decided to take risk, hoping to catch them in a lie, since everyone insisted that I had stayed there.

  “If I was a guest here, why wasn’t I presented with a bill?”

  “You don’t owe anything. Adrian Senior paid your account,” Charity informed me calmly, as if she knew where I was heading with my question.

  My previous assumptions were dashed.

  The girl looked at me and then at Charity. She was clearly uncomfortable with the tension she felt between us.

  “I...I have to check the guest book,” she said.

  “Do it,” I commanded.

  Charity tugged at my arm. “While she does exactly that, how about giving a good look at the room where you stayed?” She turned to the girl, who watched us with an anxious expression on her face. “What room did she stay in before?” she asked.

  The receptionist leafed through the guest book before answering.

  “It was number twenty-two—up those stairs and turn right.”

  Charity practically dragged me through the lobby. I don’t understand why she wouldn’t let me see the guest book first, since the girl had it in her hands. Once we were upstairs, I noticed that Charity opened the door without using a key.