by S. B. Niccum
I nodded solemnly and thought about the note around the cat’s neck and the Christmas card. Apparently I now had two death threats! Not bad for a nineteen year old! “So what’s the second thing?”
“Get a good accountant.”
I wasted no time in jumping in Alex’s Jeep and heading back home to tell the Preston’s the news. Roger had left me with a stack of legal sized documents that I had signed, officially making me a millionaire! Me! A millionaire! Oddly enough I kept trying to make myself feel excited about this, but I couldn’t. Maybe it was Celeste’s unrelenting groans and lamentations that put a damper on the occasion, or maybe it was the threat of death that this money represented. Either way, I finally had enough money to support myself and Dorian, so at least, that aspect of my life was settled.
“Spend it!” Dane said in response to my news. “Spend it all! If it’s the money he’s after, what can he possibly do if it’s gone?”
Katie brightened up and smiled from ear to ear, “I know how you can spend it! Buy an acre of rainforest!”
“Or set up a trust fund for Dorian,” Valerie suggested, matter-of-factly. “Pay your schooling in full, gift the house in Mexico to your aunts, donate the plantation in Spain to the city as a museum or something, and sell the house in Argentina. Then buy a shop in town and set up your business as a fashion designer. I bet you could sink all kinds of money in to that business!” She winked.
Now, that was an idea … but I was hesitant to blow through a million dollars that quickly. I hadn’t even spent a thousand dollars—ever! But they were right, I had to make some decisions and I had to protect Dorian and my aunts. Roger had told me that the only clause in my dad’s will, was that I let my aunts live in the home in Mexico for as long as they lived. This I would do without a doubt, in fact I would put that home in their name, so that they would never feel like they needed to leave.
I had no idea how I would do any of these things, and I felt overwhelmed by it all. This money was already weighing heavily on me, even more than the old burden of not knowing how I would provide for Dorian.
Exhausted, I passed out on my bed, at the Preston’s house, but sleep didn’t last long. My mind startled at the sound of screams, searing pain, flashes of flames and the panicked looks of three soldiers.
Dear Tess:
When we received Roger's e-mail informing us of your existence, I can’t tell you how thrilled that made us feel. To think that your father had kept you a secret from us all these years! And to think that you had to grow up in foster care, when you had three loving aunts ready and willing to mother and protect you. I’m afraid that poor Roger got quite a scolding from me on the phone, after I read his e-mail. I know he had to keep his client’s confidentiality, but still…. We understand the circumstances now, of course, and we know that your father just wanted to do what was best for everyone’s safety, but to not even tell us…okay, okay, I’ll stop ranting now. Paz tells me I’m ranting.
Needless to say, we want you to come to us as soon as you can manage it. We know that you are currently in school and that you have a scholarship. (Paz says you got your mind from her, she also got a full ride scholarship. She went to Columbia; I went to NYC and had to pay my own way). But if you could just hop on the next flight out as soon as you finish your semester, we demand we would love to meet you.
Love,
… more than you know!
Maria de Amor, Maria de Paz
& Maria de Luz
PS: Bring him. (Luz insisted on writing this herself, I’m not sure what she means.)
I read and reread my aunt’s e-mail and tears blurred my vision every time. I felt the love emanating from those pages, a kind of love that I had never had—motherly love. I wrote to Alex right away too, to tell him of the good news. But I knew that he wouldn’t get it. I haven’t been able to shake the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, ever since I had that dream. I felt pain and I perceived his thoughts, “We’re going down, we’re going down!” Those were his thoughts, not mine. To make matters worse I haven’t been able to dream of him since then; two agonizing nights have passed with no more information. I feel like Alex’s life hangs in the balance and I’m the only one who knows about it, but can’t do anything to help him. Even if I said something and was believed…what could we do from here?
When I entered the Preston’s kitchen two mornings after the dream, Valerie was sitting on one of the stools, with dark circles under her eyes and stirring a cup of tea absentmindedly.
“Good morning,” I said, clearing my voice.
She looked up and faked a smile, then simply nodded.
“What’s wrong?” I asked while reaching for my own cup of tea.
“Sometimes I get bad feelings, and I just can’t shake them,” she said rubbing her eyes. “The worst part is … I’m never wrong.”
“Is it about Alex?”
She looked up suddenly and fixed her violet eyes on me. “Yes, how—” Chills ran through her and I could see her arms getting goose bumps.
I didn’t want to tell her about my dream, but I had to admit that I shared her unease. “I feel like something’s wrong too.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she slowly nodded. “I knew it! Dane makes me take these pills when I get like this, but I can’t feel anything when I take them. I think that I would rather feel this, than feel nothing.” She took a sip of her tea, then stared into the cup.
“You should do what Dane says though,” I suggested, not wanting to go against Dane’s professional advice.
She shook her head, “these feelings are not depression, there’s a difference. When I get depressed, I feel no reason for my feelings. But there are times when I feel certain that something has happened and that’s usually a sign that we need to do something about it.”
“What could we possibly do about this?”
She shrugged, “I don’t know … wait, I guess.”
But waiting that whole day yielded no answers and I had to get back to school. Dane and Valerie insisted that I take a cell phone with me to school, something that I had thus far been successful in avoiding. I have a huge aversion to cell phones; they might be practical but…so annoying and overrated!
“Mm … assimilation,” I thought as I took the loaner phone from Valerie. “Now I can be just like everyone else!” I quipped.
“Now I can get a hold of you if I hear any news!” Valerie responded with a touch of her normal sass.
From that moment on, every time that cell phone rang my heart lodged itself in my throat. But a whole week went by with only check-in calls from Valerie. So naturally toward the end of the week I started not to jump every time that phone rang. But for some reason, when that late Friday night call came, I knew …
“Valerie?” I said, knowing beforehand that it would be her. No one but Valerie ever called me.
“No … it’s me, Katie,” a soft voice responded.
“What happened?” I whispered, as my blood turned to ice.
“We got the call … he’s M.I.A.”
Alex’s jeep, much like a tired horse, seemed to know it was headed home. I didn’t pack a thing; I just got into the Jeep and drove. Only as I parked the car in front of the Preston’s driveway did I realize this, but shrugged it off, at once. I had money now; I could go to the nearest store and buy a whole new wardrobe if I wanted to. I scolded myself for having such frivolous thoughts, and told myself that if I kept thinking that way, I would spend all my inheritance on dumb stuff.
Katie ran out to greet me and threw her arms around my neck. She had been crying and now started afresh.
Inside the house, Valerie was having a meltdown. Dane and the Admiral were there trying to calm her down, but not succeeding.
“I blame you for this,” she shouted at her father. “You fed him all those war stories growing up. He joined just to make you proud!”
The Admiral shook his head solemnly. “He wanted to go Val, we had a serious discussion about this. He knew wha
t he was doing and he knew that I didn’t care what he did with his life as long as he was a man of honor. I specifically told him—”
Valerie shook her head and rolled her eyes, and turned away from her father. Then buried her face in her husband’s chest and sobbed. Dane acknowledged my entrance with a nod and the Admiral gave me a pathetic smile.
“He’s alive.” I proclaimed, not knowing where such a powerful statement had come from. But as I said it, I knew it was true. I felt it deep inside. Everyone turned to face me, almost simultaneously. Even Valerie stopped her wailing and looked at me with hope. This family was used to having an oracle, someone who always seemed certain of how things would turn out, but that oracle was currently having a psychotic attack, so someone had to step in.
Later that night, Dane had to sedate his wife, and once she was down, the rest of us held an impromptu council around the kitchen table. It was decided that turns would be taken to watch Valerie around the clock. I was told that it had been a long time since she’d had such a breakdown. “She was a teenager,” the Admiral said solemnly, “it ended badly, and almost succeeded in ending her life.”
“If she doesn’t improve,” Dane said wearily, “she may have to be hospitalized.”
“Dane, no!” The Admiral croaked.
“Let’s hope we don’t have to, but she is insisting on making herself sick over this. She’s not listening to reason. She’s giving in to the full sway of her emotions and not even considering the fact that Alex might just be fine.” He looked at me when he said this, with a grateful smile for my comment earlier.
My prior certainty over my statement had worn off by now, and doubt was creeping in once again. “If only I could dream of him tonight.” I thought wearily. It was two thirty in the morning and the stress of the day was getting to me.
Dane wrote out a schedule and gave everyone instructions on what to do. Katie and I had the late morning and midday watch hour. The Admiral took the first shift, so Dane could catch a few hours of sleep before he had to go to work.
As my head hit the pillow, I called out to Alex. I laid there trying to reach him, but nothing happened. Then my pleadings turned to a higher power. “Lord, help him … I think he’s alive … please … bring him home.”
“You shall be like an ax in my hands.”
“An ax?” My weary mind asked.
“Shall the ax boast itself against him that heweth therewith? Or shall the saw magnify itself against him that shaketh it? As if the rod should shake itself against them that lift it up, or as if the staff should lift up itself, as if it were no wood.” a soft firm voice responded. The peace it brought me consumed all the fear and anxiety, and I was soon resting soundly.
Chapter 18
Everyone followed Dane’s schedule and Valerie remained under constant surveillance. That meant we followed her into the bathroom and everything. She hated it, of course, but she was sedated, so her temper was subdued.
Later that evening, as the four of us gathered for a bite to eat around the kitchen counter, we heard a knock at the door. We exchanged panicked looks, because a visitor at this hour was unlikely. I could see it in everyone’s eyes that for a second all our hearts sunk, dreading that it was a visit from men in uniform. Dane went to the door, with all of us on his tail. He inched the door open just a little, then swung it wide with surprise.
“Dorian!” Dane half exclaimed/half breathed out with relief.
“What are you doing here at this hour?” I inquired, as I threw my arms around his neck. He had grown a few inches and looked all grown up. After holding him tight for a moment with his limp arms at his side, it hit me! Today was his eighteenth birthday. A couple of days ago, I had every intention of calling him, and finding out what his plans were and what Charlotte was going to do; but since getting Katie’s call, I had forgotten all about it.
I was flooded with guilt and told him so. But he didn’t seem to be worried about that. He had a suitcase with him, and there was a cab outside waiting for his fare. I was about to go out and pay the driver, when Dane insisted on doing it himself.
I started to ask Dorian a million questions that I knew would get no answers to, but with Dorian you just never knew, so I had to try.
“I drew this,” he said, handing me a folded piece of paper. It had been folded so many times that it fit perfectly into the palm of his hand.
“Should I call Charlotte? Dane asked, while I unfolded the paper.
“Yeah, we need to at least tell her that I will take care of him from now on,” I said, as I focused on the picture. The drawing took up the whole page; there were no empty spaces. At first glance it looked like a jungle and some people seemed to be hiding under thick foliage or resting against the tree trunks. On closer inspection, I could tell that the people were soldiers, American soldiers; one of the flags on the uniform was clearly visible, though tiny. Then I saw that the people that were on the ground were not hiding, but lying there, wounded ... dead, I couldn’t tell.
There were two figures sitting up, one was a black guy, whose leg had a strip of white gauze tied around the thigh, and the other was … Alex! He looked whole, other than a trickle of blood running down his forehead.
I could feel the blood draining from my head, and my legs giving out. But I refused to be so weak, or to pass out. So I staggered to the nearest chair and leaned against it while I let the wooziness pass. On seeing my reaction Katie came over to my side and looked at the picture. It took her a few moments to see what I saw; then she exclaimed, “It’s Alex! He’s alive!”
The Admiral hurried over too, making loud thuds with his cane as he came, and Dane, who was on the phone, hastily ended his conversation. They all took turns inspecting the drawing.
“Dorian, what does this mean?” Dane asked with what I thought sounded like his psychiatrist voice.
Dorian shrugged. That was all we were going to get out of him, I could tell.
“He does things like this sometimes,” I explained for him. “I think that he sees them in his head and has no way of expressing them, other than by drawing them.”
“Has he done this before and been right?” the Admiral asked.
“Yes,” Kate answered. “He drew a picture of Estelle once, but he’s never seen her.”
“He’s also drawn pictures for me, one specifically that actually took place, but he could have never known about it. In fact,” a chill run through me as I spoke, “he must have drawn the picture right as it was happening.”
They insisted that I recount the story of that night when I was stranded after the swim meet and had wandered alone in the rain before Alex found me. The Admiral remembered that night, but didn’t know about the details leading up to it.
“So you are saying that Dorian had that drawing waiting for you at home, before you even told him anything about what had happened?” the Admiral inquired.
I nodded, “To this day I haven’t told Dorian about that night. All he knows is what he’s drawn.”
The Admiral grabbed the picture again and studied it with more scrutiny. “Then there’s got to be something in here that will give us a clue as to where they are,” he said, as his eyes searched the paper. He did this for a while, then looked up suddenly. “It could be anywhere, but the military might be able to glean more intelligence out of this. They know where he was headed, and what countries he was flying over, so they might be able to narrow the search down if they give this picture any credence.”
“Do you think they would?” Dane asked.
The Admiral shook his head. “It’s doubtful that they would, but I have some friends that might humor me.”
After discussing this possibility for some time, Dane suggested we all go to bed and get some rest. Dorian was given the room I usually slept in and I was sent to Alex’s room. I was expecting Dorian to complain about his accommodations, but he didn’t. Today, it seemed, he was full of surprises.
The next day, Dane requested all the pictures that Dorian had dra
wn for me, and tried to glean any more information he could out of Dorian. The Admiral set to work, trying to reach some of his old acquaintances in the military who owed him favors. He claimed that he had saved their lives, so they owed him this at least. While Katie took care of breakfast and all the household chores, I took my post by Valerie’s bed. I brought my homework in with me, hoping to get a few hours of work done, but I soon found my mind drifting in other directions.
“You shall be like an Ax,” that soothing voice had said. What was that supposed to mean? I knew from what Celeste had taught me that the voice was good, it filled me with peace and I was able to fall asleep. But it was different, too, somehow. I had felt it before … that was it! I had felt it, not heard it! It wasn’t a thought that I had, it was a voice in thought form that had been placed in my head. Like when I hear Alex’s voice, like telepathy; only…with feelings attached. It seemed to be the most complete form of communication. Words made perfect by the feelings they conveyed. As I thought about this, my mind started to drift yet again, and soon I found my mind being flooded with noise.
“Tess, Tess? Is that you?”
“It’s true! You’re alive! Why can’t I see you?”
“I don’t know. Oh, yeah … it’s the sack.”
“What sack?”
“The one they put over my head.”
“Who, why?”
“I don’t know who. They speak Spanish, and only in whispers. They put the sack over our heads so we couldn’t see where they were taking us.”
“Then, why?”
“Don’t know that either.”
“How long have you been this way? How do you eat or drink?” I asked with alarm.
“Three days … and they’ve been feeding us our own rations, but they make us keep the sack on our heads. They give us water this way too, not enough though, never enough.”