Bannerman's Ghosts

by John R. Maxim

  Elizabeth had made no move to get out. She had turned her head once to see the first of their embraces, but then quickly turned again to face forward. Bannerman saw that her face was flushed. He saw that her shoulders were trembling.

  Molly asked Elizabeth, “Are you just going to sit here?”

  Elizabeth seemed unable to move. She almost seemed unable to breathe.

  Molly punched her shoulder. “Get out of this car. Don’t you dare make him look at the back of your head.”

  Bannerman said to Molly, “She just needs a moment. Remember, he’s been dead for two years.”

  “A moment to do what. Check her make-up? Fix her hair? Elizabeth, you’ll either step out of this car or I’ll…”

  “Um, Molly…”

  “Paul, butt out.”

  “I don’t think she hears you.”

  Molly said, “Elizabeth, I’m counting to three.” She said, “And another thing. Don’t shake his hand. Elizabeth, if I see you stick out your hand…”

  Elizabeth seemed only vaguely aware that what Molly was saying had some relevance to her. She had started to climb through the door that stood open. She moved very slowly as if still in disbelief that the man in the road could be Martin. She turned toward Molly; she blinked as if to ask, ‘Did you say something?’

  “Never mind. Just get up there,” said Molly.

  Bannerman watched her through his rearview mirror. He was watching a different Elizabeth Stride. She walked slowly, faltering, her hands covering her mouth. Kessler saw her coming. He’d been smiling, but it faded. Bannerman couldn’t know what he was seeing in her eyes. He saw Elizabeth’s hands come away from her face. He saw her right hand reaching out to him.

  “I’ll kill her,” said Molly. “She’s doing it. I’ll kill her. She’s going to shake his hand and let him kiss her damned cheek.”

  But Molly was wrong. The hand rose to his face. Aisha’s lips were moving; she was speaking excitedly, but Elizabeth didn’t seem to hear Aisha either. Her fingers brushed his lips and his chin and moved up his cheek to his brow. At the corner of one eye she found a v-shaped scar that he’d had long before she first met him. She touched it as if to make sure it was real. She leaned her head forward, not to offer her cheek, but to lean it against Kessler’s chest. Aisha did the same. He kissed the tops of their heads. He buried his own face between them.

  As far as Bannerman could see, no more words had been spoken. He had watched them for the better part of a minute. He realized that he was intruding.

  He said to Molly, “Let’s be getting on home.”

  She said, “I’d better get them. We can’t leave them on the street.”

  “They’ll move when they want to. Let’s go home.”

  Elizabeth and Aisha stayed with Molly at her house. Molly had expected Kessler to join them. She had offered her bedroom to Kessler and Elizabeth if that was what the both of them wanted. Elizabeth looked at Kessler. Kessler declined. He said he thought it best to stay with Carla if he might. He said to Elizabeth what Elena had said. They should take this one step at a time.

  Molly took him aside. She said, “You ought to be together.”

  He told her, “It’s better to wait.”

  She said, “Martin, I’m aware that you have certain limitations. She’s been told. I don’t think she cares.”

  “I care. Not for my sake. I’ve grown used to it now. I care because she deserves better.”

  As for Bannerman, he’d be glad when the weekend came and Molly, for a change, might have her own life to manage.

  Kessler did stay with Carla, but only to sleep. He spent most of his free time with Elizabeth, or with Aisha, most often with the two of them together. And together they would stop by to visit the baby, taking turns holding him, cooing at him. Kessler had been stunned when he learned that the baby was going to be named after him. More than stunned, he was speechless. He could find no words. Or else he did not trust himself to speak.

  He was kept busy otherwise when his input was welcomed on issues that this group had assembled to discuss. Few were surprised that he’d turned up alive. This was, after all, Martin Kessler. What did surprise some was that he was Alameo. Most had heard of Alameo and they’d heard that he was white, but none of them had dreamed that Alameo might be Kessler. Bannerman had offered to provide them with proof in the form of the poster that Netanya had sent him.

  Kessler said, “Show them that and I burn down your house.”

  “How about just the head with your pretty blue cap?”

  “For that, I only burn your garage.”

  Elizabeth had been patient for the first three days. More than patient, she was even deferential. She gave no sign of wanting to lace into Kessler for the two years of anguish and regret that he’d caused her. She would think before she spoke or she would listen in silence, all the while holding either his hand or Aisha’s. This alone caused some in attendance to wonder whether she was the real Elizabeth Stride. This Stride was, perhaps, a more even-tempered twin of the Stride who had been the Black Angel. Some conjectured that she must have been lobotomized.

  On the fourth day, late evening, Kessler came to the house. The children were upstairs asleep. Bannerman had expected that the visitor would be Carla. The chimes from the “Jaws’ theme hand sounded. But it was Kessler alone. Carla merely had alerted him. Kessler came to the door with a small bag in hand. It contained his few personal effects. He told Bannerman that he had made up his mind. He would slip away quietly. He would not be returning.

  Bannerman asked him, “Does Elizabeth know this?”

  “She’ll be all right. She has Aisha.”

  “So, you’re saying that you haven’t said goodbye to either one.”

  “It is cowardly, I know. But In the long run, it’s better. I’ll go to Angola. I have obligations. After that, I think I will go back to Europe. I am happiest when I ski. I would like to ski. And I’ll teach to put food on the table.”

  “You’ll have no money when you leave Angola?”

  “I’ll have a little,” said Kessler. “Enough.”

  “You might be the first white man in the history of that country who ever walked away broke.”

  Kessler shrugged. He said, “There’s nothing there that is mine.”

  “Their diamonds might not be, but you have your own. You have the diamonds that you left for Elizabeth two years ago. I’m sure that she’d say they’re still yours.”

  “She’ll need them more than I will. She must make a new home.”

  Susan entered the room. She had overheard some of it. She asked Kessler, “What has happened? What is making you leave?”

  He said, “You must excuse me. It’s a personal matter. It’s not a thing that I’m comfortable discussing.”

  She said, “No, what’s uncomfortable will be us in the morning when we try to explain this to the people who love you. And don’t try to tell me that you don’t love them. Everyone who’s seen you knows better.”

  “I must go. Will you tell little Martin about me?”

  “He’s going to see for himself. He needs godparents, damn it. You’re elected. You and Elizabeth.”

  Kessler blinked. “You want us? For moral guidance? Stability? Forgive me, but you are insane.”

  “For courage,” said Bannerman. “For honor. For loyalty. The christening is this coming Sunday.”

  Before Kessler could speak, the chimes sounded again. It was Molly’s theme, “Pretty Woman.” But, again, it wasn’t Molly who came to the door. It was Elizabeth. She had Aisha with her. Elizabeth’s eyes went to Kessler’s small bag. She said to Bannerman, “Carla told us he’d packed.” She said to Kessler, “I just don’t believe you.”

  Kessler couldn’t look at her or at Aisha. He kept his eyes on the floor. Elizabeth apologized for the intrusion. She asked Bannerman and Susan, “Did he tell you what caused this?”

  Bannerman answered, “I think it’s been building. He’s told me that he has nothing to give you. I told hi
m he’s wrong. He has everything.”

  “What brought it on tonight is that I asked him to sleep with me. Nothing sexual, just some holding until we fall asleep. I was careful to say that I had no expectations.”

  Kessler had reddened. “Elizabeth…please.”

  She said to Susan, “And yes, I did tell him that I love him. I didn’t blurt it out. I didn’t say, ‘By the way.’ I had my hands on his cheeks; I looked into his eyes. I said, I might not have known it, but I’ve loved him from the start. I said that I love him now more than ever. I said that I would love him for as long as he lives. That last part, I think, was the problem.”

  “Elizabeth,” said Kessler, “Aisha shouldn’t be hearing…”

  “Which part?”

  “The intimate parts. About sleeping together. About certain physical deficiencies.”

  Elizabeth asked Aisha, “Were you raised in a bubble?”

  “No, I wasn’t,” she said. “I know how babies get born.” She said to Kessler, “And I know about cuddling and loving. I know that you don’t need sex to do that.”

  Kessler took a breath. “There’ll be no babies from me.”

  Elizabeth said, “Well, guess what. From me either.”

  “That would seem to take fertility off the table,” said Susan. She said to Kessler, “That leaves impotence and it’s treatable these days. Have your doctors not told you that it’s treatable?”

  Kessler covered his face. He begged, “Will you stop?” He gestured with his shoulder toward Aisha.

  Aisha said, “Impotence isn’t news to me either. There are ads on TV every day.”

  Elizabeth told Susan, “His doctors said that it’s hopeless. But those doctors were Israelis. They were Mossad. And Kessler, who knows the Israelis can be tricky, was too dumb to get a second opinion.”

  Susan asked her, “They lied to him?”

  “Or they let him believe it. The Israelis needed him to want to go to Angola. The less future he thought he would have, the better. The bleaker it looked, the less likely he’d be to turn up on Hilton Head Island again. Even when Martin took off for Davos, they had loaded him down with a cocktail of pills that they said would delay the development of cancers. Do you see his little bag? It’s still loaded with pills. Martin, to my knowledge, has shaved twice since he’s been here. What will you bet that there’s something in that bag that shuts down his testosterone pump?”

  Kessler threw up his hands. He said, “Enough about this.”

  Bannerman asked, “Except what if it’s true?”

  “What is true,” said Kessler, “is that I have five years. This is at most. This is if I am lucky. Five years before leukemia, liver failure, kidney failure. The doctors did not lie about that. When I got there, I had lost all my hair, half my teeth. Do you think this was caused by some Israeli pill?”

  Aisha said to him, “We’ll take it.”

  “You’ll take what?”

  “Those five years.”

  Elizabeth said to Kessler, “Look. I’m through being nice. You’re going to beat this because you’re Martin Kessler and nothing has ever beaten you yet. We’re going to find you some new doctors. But even if the Israelis were right, I’m with Aisha; I want those five years. We’ll take care of each other; we will love each other, so stop whining and get with the program.”

  Kessler sighed. He said to Susan, “This was so close just now. From Elizabeth, this was almost a tenderness.”

  “She’s right about the doctors,” said Susan. “What else?”

  “I must go to Angola. I have given my word. I must go for two months, maybe three.”

  “Then I’m going with you,” said Elizabeth. “What else?”

  Kessler shook his head. “It is no place for you.”

  “It was good enough for Sara and I’m meaner. What else?”

  “And leave Aisha? What of Aisha? Without you, she has no one.”

  Aisha said brightly, “Oh, I won’t be alone.”

  Elizabeth said quickly, “She means she’s among friends.”

  She warned Aisha, with her eyes, that she’d best not elaborate. Keep your mother and Nadia and Jasmine to yourself until Bannerman’s crowd has had a chance to get used to you. They already must be wondering how you could be so chipper a day or two after your guardians were murdered. We don’t want you saying, “Oh, I’m fine; so are they. I’ll probably see them tonight.”

  Aisha knew that look. She understood what it meant. She said quietly, “Not just them. I have new friends. Still alive.”

  Not quietly enough. Susan asked her. “Still alive?”

  “Well, there’s Claudia. She’s an angel. But she’s still flesh and blood. We’ve been having some wonderful talks and she’s staying.”

  “Aisha’s not nuts,” said Elizabeth to Susan. “She just has a broader view of what’s real and what isn’t.”

  Susan answered, “She’s told us that her mother stays in touch. That’s nothing to explain or apologize for. As for Claudia, she’s right. She’ll be staying for a while. Claudia is almost as new to this as Aisha. She and Adam will be spending a few months with us.”

  Aisha said, “Claudia’s not so nuts either. She has this one great idea that really could change the world. It’s about an old prophecy that I never knew about. It seems that my namesake, the original Aisha…”

  “Later,” said Elizabeth firmly.

  “No, this could be good. It could be great for Muslim women.”

  “If enough of them live through it,” said Elizabeth. She’d been told of it.

  “This could save them, Elizabeth. Claudia says…”

  “Aisha…later. Put a lid on it. Thank you.”

  Susan caught Aisha’s eye and gave her wink. The gesture said that she’d like to hear it herself. But Elizabeth was right. It would keep.

  Elizabeth said to Kessler, “Here’s where it stands. You and I are going to buy a home here together.” She paused. She said to Bannerman. “That’s assuming we’re welcome.”

  He smiled. “We’ll look at houses in the morning.”

  She lowered her eyes. She moistened her lips. She said to Aisha, “It’s going to happen.”

  “I know.”

  Bannerman told her, “We’ll get your possessions shipped up here. Go to Africa, come back, and we’ll get you settled in. Don’t leave before Sunday, however.”

  “What’s Sunday?”

  “Martin will tell you. You can talk it over later.”

  “We’ll line up some tutors for Aisha,” said Susan. “She won’t fall behind while you’re gone.”

  “By the way,” said Bannerman, “there’s a rumor that you’re dead again.

  Roger’s driver killed a woman who was working for Bourne. He called her Elizabeth. He even tried to say Stride. All we know about her is that her name was Claire. The police, apparently, don’t even have that. No prints of her on file, and her face was disfigured. There are some who think you died in that garage.”

  “You’re saying?”

  “I’m saying you can probably stay dead if you wish. You might want to think about changing your name. Or at least don’t slap Stride on your mailbox this time.”

  Kessler frowned. He asked, “You are Paul Bannerman, are you not?”

  “Well, yes, but I haven’t tried to be dead.”

  “Up the street is Molly Farrell, Carla Benedict, Anton Zivic. Not much farther away is Billy McHugh. Somewhere else, God knows where, is John Waldo. I don’t even mention Harry Whistler and the twins and about fifty others who are here for your meetings. Name one who has not had a price on his head by one angry government or another.”

  “Just a thought,” said Bannerman. “Up to you.”

  “She is the incomparable Elizabeth Stride. And I am Martin Kessler, now that I have stopped whining. We will both keep our names, if you please.”

  “I’m sorry I mentioned it,” said Bannerman.

  “Do you have wine? What wines do you have?”

  “Um…the
normal assortment. Reds and whites. A few nice ones.”

  “Champagne?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Susan said, “Yes, we do. Harry brought us a Dom and a Cristal.”

  “I’ll replace them,” said Kessler, “but not before morning. Tonight they must turn a lady’s head.”

  Elizabeth had her hands on her hips. She glared at Kessler. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I intend to make approximate love to you.”

  “Well, forget it. I come on to you and you’re ready to skip town. You had your chance, Kessler, and you blew it.”

  Kessler said to Bannerman. “Woman scorned. She’ll get over it.” He said to Susan, “Baby powder. Do you have some? You must.”

  “My parents,” said Aisha, “always kept some in the nightstand. And you know what else they liked?”

  “Not one more word,” said Elizabeth.

  Susan said, “And some music. You can have our CD player. We’re a little light on porn films, but I’ve got Cosmopolitan.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Elizabeth. “Every one of you. Wait. Now it’s gone to committee? Next you’ll ask us to tape it.”

  Kessler winced. He said, “She’s right. We are making this a joke.”

  “Sorry,” said Susan. “I got carried away.”

  Kessler said to Elizabeth, “It is nerves. I am frightened. I’ve been frightened since I knew that I would see you again and a wreck when I feared that I might not.”

  “Then walk with me, Martin. We’ll just take a walk. We’ll go sit by the shore and watch the water.”

  He said, “In two years, there has not been a day when you were not in my heart and in my mind. In two years there has been hardly a night when I didn’t visit you in my dreams.”