Signal to Murder

by Rhone Sonnier

  For enlightenment, educational, and establishment of origin purposes, Francis further tells me that the name Sorrell (Sorrel) has a French appearance and origin. Also, he says, Francis and not Sorrell might have been a surname on his side of my family.

  To assist in my recovery and total identity Francis encourages a positive attitude and a belief in self. Francis insists that I believe I am physically gifted, and mentally without superior in intellect and problem solving skills. He wants to ensure that I have total confidence in myself.

  Francis insists that I, Keith Edwards Sevan Sorrell, should challenge all expectations he has for me, and I for me. He says, “I know that you will surpass my greatest hopes for you as a man of noble origin as your heritage and name implies in history.” I personally do not feel such nobility, but to the contrary prefer graciousness and humility. Francis and Nana Marguerite admire my feelings. Francis promises that he and Nana Marguerite (I refer to her as Nana) will stay true to me and will remain confident in me. They will be with me as long as I need and accept their help and affection. I find this encouraging and it gives me a great sense of respect for them accompanied by warmth and security.

  My Grandfather, Francis Sorrell, reminds me that I am unique, but not special. He says I am much like my Father in that I have a good spirit, and a heart filled with humility and compassion. Francis claims that I have many of my Father’s mannerisms such as stature, walk, and slow deliberate speech. Quite often, he reminds me that he chose my middle name for a spiritual purpose (now I know it was not because of his seven string guitar) and insists that it will forever describe me and help determine my character (if I do not fully recover my previous self).

  Francis says, “Keith Edwards Sevan Sorrell, you will learn more of the meaning and purpose of your middle name as you continue to mentally heal.”

  Francis has assured me, “You alone must determine who and what you are as a person with free will. You must test everything anyone tells you about yourself, past or present. Question everything, test every new bit of information, doubt everything, prove everything yourself.” In order to do this Francis reassured me, “You must of necessity, learn certain facts about your complete ancestry.”

  At present, I know that my Mother’s name was Grace Edwards. Edwards was her maiden name, and therefore the last name she gave me. Francis told me that my Mother was never married and is deceased. My Father, Brian Keith Sorrell is deceased. My paternal Grandmother is Nana (Marguerite Teller Sorrell), and my paternal Grandfather is Francis (Francis Rene` Sorrell), and of course my confidant and ever present companion is Dillon, the red dog. Francis has reminded me that my maternal Grandparents, the Edwards are deceased.

  The names and other relevant details of my Mother, Grace Edwards, and my Father, Brian Keith Sorrell, shall remain a mystery from other family that may exist, not for covert sinister reasons, but only until such time as I regain most of my mental and physical abilities. However long that may take.

  Francis and Nana Marguerite feel that my life remains in danger, and that we must continue to take precautions. We must take certain precautions which necessarily include the continued practice of martial arts skills (especially Tai Chi) and the carrying of licensed weapons. In my current condition I cannot and should not carry a weapon.

  Sevan Sorrell deplores firearms. Sevan has a kindly and gentle demeanor. As Keith Edwards I welcome and find comfort in the use of all martial arts and weapons. As Keith I am most often tough, self-assured and bold, possessing a no nonsense not so gentle gruff, harsh, stern demeanor.

  Francis has informed me that my physicians have documented at least two personalities since my awakening from the coma. They tell Francis that this is not uncommon with the head injury and amnesia. The physicians noted behavior characteristic variations. One personality, Keith, is tough and totally self-assured, and the other Sevan, although not timid, is less confrontational and not aggressive.

  I have been informed by my Grandfather Francis that I am not to drive and when necessary we will be driven where we need to go. Raj has arranged for security to handle this duty.

  Francis has told me that when we begin to review the cold cases we will travel as necessary with Sorrell’s Investigations coordinating travel arrangements. I already have an accountant who handles my affairs. He was hired by Raj quite some time ago. The accountant will make funds available as necessary. I have determined to respect my Grandfather’s and Grandmother’s wishes and willingly seek his and or her advice in all matters. Most often it will be the immediate advice of Francis, as he is ever present in my life at this time. We do not share a democracy. Francis makes all final decisions until such time as I am well.

  Therefore, I am Keith Edwards Sevan Sorrell the only son of my Mother, Grace Edwards, and my Father, Brian Keith Sorrell. I am the product of my Grandfather’s vivid imagination and he has great expectations for me. There are so many names to remember, but the names are, I believe, truly necessary.

  My head swoons as I meditate and contemplate. There must be more than this somewhere, somehow more than this.

  My head clears as my mind returns to the present from a mental lapse into my past seeking desperately for more clarity. I mentally ask myself, “Where have I been? What have I done? Where am I going?” I constantly move about in a stupor or as it feels to be some sort of trance. At times I walk and talk as though I am one of my robots in the games that I am told I designed, but this is no game. I am scared, but of what I do not know. I realize I must be satisfied with this kind of existence for the moment. I approach the beginning of yet another day seeking answers.

  Every morning I begin my reflections by walking slowly from my bedroom into the living room in a crouch like a tiger stance. I begin making slow side to side movements stepping out with my feet, performing Tai Chi. Suddenly I find myself standing at the window gazing out with the eyes of an eagle. I sink into the martial arts steps. I like the familiar Tai Chi stances.

  As I meditate and observe my companions in the park; I have become more alert with every passing second. My head has no pressure in it as my eyes clear and more and more my mental fog lifts.

  I must constantly check my watch and my cell phone for the time and date as Francis has encouraged me to do. I carry a small spiral notebook in my top shirt pocket in which I write pertinent thoughts. Francis reviews my notes with me to discuss any revelations. He tells me, “We never know when the door to your memory will open completely.” The injuries from the attempt on my life have also affected my short-term memory.

  I remind myself that my mental reality, my awakening into my new life, began July 25, 2008 at the relatively enlightened young age of twenty-three in Rockford, Illinois. It is as though I were reborn on that day as first I slept, and then I awoke from my coma a new person. I am informed by Francis that my Father passed away on this same date at the age of forty-three in Topeka, Kansas.

  Many facts about the lives of my Mother and Father have not as yet been revealed to me. I am told that this knowledge will come to me in time when I am more able to deal with it.

  All other facts such as my physical attributes and characteristics will come to light as I consider my Grandfather’s heartfelt wishes for the further development of my mind and we hope a kindly soul and intellect. Francis has great hope for me and my very spirit has come to understand that I have a mission or missions, and these missions will become known as my personality and new character evolves. I trust my Grandfather Francis’ encouragement and help implicitly.

  To put it succinctly and as best I can from Francis’ instructions, I must constantly revisit new found knowledge and build, build, build my past. While doing this I will remember my past. That is unless some future trauma causes my memory to return.

  I am a twenty-three year old Caucasian French/Irish male of considerable personal wealth and getting wealthier every day. I have been told that I am an accomplished investigative journalist who has plans to investigate unsolved mysteries and c
old cases along with other challenging endeavors.

  I also remind myself that I am considered quite formidable and credible by enemies, associates, and supposed intellectual peers. I remind myself that Grandfather Francis and Nana Marguerite will advise me, however, I alone will determine my worth as my investigative accomplishments and other abilities compare to others.

  There are times when I feel as though I am off somewhere, drifting in space unaffected by gravity, and from the inner recesses of my mind I hear voices in the distance. The voices are saying, “Keith, stay with us Keith,” but I can’t. I can’t, because I am more complete with my full name Keith Edwards Sevan Sorrell. I know that I am becoming whole again, healthy again.

  I think there must be something more than this somewhere somehow something more than this.

  I wonder with every new reflection, every new memory if this is a glimpse into my past or a glimpse into my future or perhaps not of any significance in the grand scheme of things of importance. Maybe this is just a slide show of memory.

  I have a sudden remembrance of a famous character in a popular book. The character is Jason Bourne (David Webb) the main character in Robert Ludlum’s novel “The Bourne Identity.” The book was made into a television mini-series starring Richard Chamberlin, and then into a 2002 movie directed by Tony Gilroy starring Matt Damon. Bourne suffered from total amnesia and the book emphasized that he repeated over and over again in the phonetic alphabet Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Echo, Foxtrot. He had an obsession with Carlos his nemesis. I recall that Bourne prepared himself and sought the truth with work and the assistance of friends. I recall that his friend’s lives were always in danger. The memory of this book and movie helps me to deal with my amnesia.

  As I try to reflect on my past much like Jason Bourne and with the help of Francis, I constantly remind myself that by means of cunning and spontaneous creative dress I can appear and disappear through means of my own (in diverse cultural settings) often hidden in plain sight. Francis has been training me to become a chameleon, camouflaging myself should it ever become necessary. With the assistance of Francis, I can move about to wherever my services may be required. Even the term services must be clarified as my existence evolves from imagination in the travails of our minds that is the intellect of Francis and me.

  Suffice it to say, I am for all intents and purposes, a shrewd analytical investigator (detective) extraordinaire of uncommon mental prowess as described and credited by others in the investigative journalist profession. I again remind myself that I solve mysteries. This is for the most part the extent of why I live and breathe. The work I do satisfies me. This for now is my Alpha and Omega. I find all of these gratuitous thoughts about myself and my abilities rather conceited and quite amusing.

  I remind myself again that Francis named me Sevan and that my last name Sorrell is similar to Sorrel with one “l.” Francis and I recently read “The Sorrel Stallion” (The Horse That Came Home) by David Grew. It was recommended to us by Nana. The book was published by Grosset & Dunlap, New York; Copyright 1932 by Charles Scribner’s Sons. Also Copyright, 1951, by David Grew, and illustrated by Paul Brown. After the sorrel horse ran away from home and suffered much travail; he found his way back. Memories of how to get back home kept surfacing in his mind. Surely this Sorrel name with only one “l” is a mere coincidence, or is it?

  Francis tells me my middle name Sevan is a prime number of spiritual significance. He says I will come to better understand the need to embrace the name Sevan, as well as Sorrell. Francis tells me all will become clear and reasonable to me as time passes. Francis says, “Your amnesia may be a protective cloak. You may suspect or know who has tried to take your life and have suppressed it in disbelief.”

  Before Francis and I move forward with my life, our lives, we must further develop and or explain the deriving of my character with a further knowledge of our ancestors and their descendants.

  I think, “Who am I?”

  I hear the sound of a key turning in the front door, my friends have arrived back home.

  Chapter 13

  Reflections on One’s Names

  My last name Sorrell (or Sorrel) has a French appearance and is a variation of an English location named Soar. Soar described the man who lived near the river Soar, which was named for Breton sar (meaning to flow). According to my Grandfather, Soar (Sorrell) was a nickname for the man with reddish hair, from Anglo-Norman-French sor (meaning chestnut as in the color of dried leaves). The name has various spellings and personal preference seems to dictate the number of “l’s” and “r’s” used in individual spellings of the name.

  Research has provided facts of history in which the name Sorrell appears. The name Sorrell may be found in the counties of Essex and Suffolk, England. One account says the Sorrell family fled from France during the persecution and entered England by way of Norway. Most recently the surname Sorrell appears as in Sorrell, St. Mary’s Parish in Louisiana.

  The Sorrel Coat of Arms has two Coronets (a small crown with arches affixed to a small ring on a tiara which fits well to the head) depicting descent from Kings and Queens. The coronets also indicate that the family is of noble birth and great intellect (written by: Marion De Woody Pettigrew, Pine Bluff, Arkansas).

  The Sorrell’s are described as fair-skinned with reddish brown hair. When Britain decided to colonize the Americas they went to the Great Book, determined exactly who was not of strict/pure Anglo origin, and taxed them into oblivion. Eventually these people could not pay their taxes, and they were given the choice of either debtor’s prison or a free one-way trip to the colonies! Many of our forefathers came to America this way. They endured many hardships, trials and tribulations.

  Once again (as I heal swiftly) I remind myself that my middle name Sevan is the lowest of prime numbers and is of major significance and implications. Sevan denotes spiritual perfection and is the hallmark of the Holy Spirit’s work. It is the seventh prime number (as thirteen is the sixth prime number).

  I am told by Francis that my very existence has relations to numbers especially prime numbers which consistently present themselves in my life. Francis advises me to set this fact aside as I evolve into my new self.

  I have determined that I am a very patient person and that I, as Sevan, can wait as long as progress is consistent, but Keith on the other hand is quite another matter and pushes the envelope for ever newer revelations.

  Edwards is derived from people of Welch origin who migrated to England, Ireland, and North America. I find all of this history and lineage very fascinating, but fail to embrace the significance placed on such trivia by Francis and Marguerite. In my present peculiar mental condition such information is to me nothing more than trivia. Francis tells me that my nonchalance about heritage will pass.

  I think incessantly that there must be more than this somehow somewhere there must be more than this, because I am at this time not satisfied with mere existence. I am told this particular recurring thought pattern is no new revelation and this singular thought is much like that of my Father and Grandfather as they experienced life. Once again I find myself wanting to reminisce as I think and ponder. I am not certain of the time in days or months that I have been in my mental malady, fog, but I sense I am almost where I need to be to move on with my life. I feel I am ready to begin new work. Francis will give me the work that I need.

  I very much wish to begin investigating the mysteries presented to me; however, I must re-acquire my bearings, sea legs so to speak, before Francis and I press forward.

  Certain pertinent physical characteristics of my person must come to light in order that I may more acutely be aware of and know myself. I now spell out the way I envision myself and the way others visually accept my physical appearance. I stand six feet two inches tall; have dark brown hair with auburn highlights, an olive complexion and clear sky blue eyes. I envision myself as having the attributes consistent with a wiry muscular body possessing exceptional athletic abilities, exce
pt that my body frame is too large to be considered wiry, although I am very agile. I hone my athletic abilities constantly (the actor, stuntman Jock Mahoney of Tarzan fame comes to mind, but as mentioned previously, my bone structure is somewhat larger).

  I am told that my carriage, like that of Brian Keith Sorrell, my Father, is most often very erect with shoulders back and chest out as I move about walking like a panther (somewhat like Robert Mitchum the actor).

  I do for a fact possess a masculine face with a somewhat strong not quite square jaw line. I eat well and only nominally partake of alcohol. I do nothing in excess. I work and play with moderation and allow myself an abundance of deep thoughtfulness in meditation as I study vigorously and consistently with purity always in mind.

  One must have an arsenal of weapons beginning with mental awareness and free will. My martial arts skills alone may not be enough for me to protect myself; I may need to use other weapons at my disposal. I feel the red dog is a tool and must be a weapon. My Grandfather Francis is most definitely a weapon.

  Chapter 14

  Francis and I Have Many Weapons

  Francis and the red dog will enter through that door any second and greet me with the singular name, Sevan. Their greeting will be very much like Greer Garson’s call to Smithy in “Random Harvest.” In the 1942 film, Ronald Coleman plays Smithy, Greer Garson’s World War I amnesiac war veteran husband.

  Just as Greer Garson the actress playing his loving and supportive wife (Paula) felt time was flying by, I feel time is passing swiftly, precious time and there is none to waste. I am aware that I am thinking, but cannot waken fully from a sleep. Much like Coleman’s character, Smithy, I am in search of my lost passions and my home.