“No. Anthony, we spoke last week. You said you were in Rome for Judy Brown’s exhibition, and that you would come to Berlin for mine. You said you had made arrangements last month.”
“Paul, we haven’t spoken for three weeks. And I’m not in Rome, I’m in London.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“You know I don’t joke. Even less so about these things. Stay calm, Paul. Go back to Ireland and I will take care of your paintings. I’ll try to locate them... notify the police or something. The insurance will cover everything, of course.”
Paul hung up, unsure of what to think. His lesser concern at that moment were the paintings, everything was too strange and illogic. If he hadn’t spoken to Anthony, then... who had he spoken to? It had been his voice, he had no doubt about it.
Confused and still in shock, Paul called Amy, but she didn’t pick up. He couldn’t imagine that Amy had forgotten all about him, that she was finally with the one person who had managed to survive oblivion. The person that appeared in her dreams, and had always lived in her heart.
It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be Tom. Tom was dead! She had seen his corpse herself, she had seen him in her dreams... no, it couldn’t be. But it was. Tom pointed at the entrance of Butterfly, and Amy ran to open the door for him.
Having him there was magical. It was something incredible, that she would have never dared to dream. But she wasn’t dreaming. Her eyes were wide open. Tom was there... right there... and he was looking at her with all the love in the world. As usual.
“No... it can’t be. Tom?” asked Amy, looking into his eyes.
She didn’t have to imagine Tom at thirty-seven anymore. She could see him right in front of her. He wasn’t too different from Tom at twenty-five. His skin was darker, and there were some wrinkles on his face that made him look perhaps even more attractive. He had grown a beard. His green eyes didn’t have the feverish glow they had had the last time she had seen him, and his hair, traced with a few white strands, gleamed. He smelled nice. He was thinner, and he even seemed taller.
“Are you going to hug me?” asked Tom, his voice deeper than she remembered.
“Tom... is it really you?”
“Who else could I be?” laughed he.
“But... you were dead, Tom, I saw you,” said Amy with a shaky voice, drowning her tears.
“I know this must be shocking for you, Amy... I promise I’ll tell you everything. But first hold me, please... you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”
Amy embraced him, and felt once more the warmth of her Tom. The boy with sad eyes who played alone in the recess. The teenager with unbearable visions who couldn’t sleep at night. The happy boyfriend who had given her enough happiness to last a lifetime, who had sent her away for her own good. To keep her away from trouble.
Amy caressed Tom’s face. He smiled and kissed her. In that kiss, Amy couldn’t recognize the old Tom she had known. But twelve years had passed. Twelve years without kissing those lips, without feeling his skin. When they parted, Amy looked up to him, smiling, and nodded. She wanted to know the truth. Where had he been for the last twelve years?
“Do you want a cigarette?” offered Amy, still confused, sitting on the swing in the porch.
“Sure.”
“Since when do you smoke?” asked Amy.
“I started four years ago, can you imagine? I started at thirty-three.”
“Tom, I just don’t get it. I don’t understand,” she said, but deep down she knew Tom was capable of doing anything. And he had done so. He had revived... came back from among the dead, never belonging with them.
“Remember, Amy. Remember... they told you I had been dead for three days, but you had seen me just a couple of hours earlier. I was not the corpse you saw, and believe me, I suffer everyday thinking of the pain I caused you. But I did it for your sake and mine.”
“Go on,” said Amy with a trembling voice.
She stared at him, unable to believe he was alive. It was just like one of those dreams where Tom would talk to her, and she would pray for him not to go into a loop as he usually did, repeating strange and unpleasant phrases.
Tom remained quiet for a moment. Deep in thought, he took a couple of drags from his cigarette and stared into an empty space.
“What is that light?” asked he, looking at the cave. A blinking light shined from it once more.
“I have no idea,” answered Amy, carelessly. “Tom, please. I need answers. You have to understand this is too shocking for me,” she continued, with tears in her eyes and a knot in her throat she just couldn’t get rid of. Her whole body was shaking and she had a nervous tick on her lower lip.
“It was my visions, Amy. I saw some things, too difficult to explain, that compromised some important people. They wanted to shut me up. They wanted to get rid of me, and of the people I loved. I had to disappear and I did so. They found that poor kid who looked just like me, and killed him. I locked myself in my apartment for days until you came over... I’m sorry I was so rude. But you needed to get away from me. Now those people are gone and I... I wanted to come back to you. To be close to you once more. These last twelve years have been so lonely, and sad,” he explained, as if he had rehearsed every single one of the words he had just said.
“Where have you been?”
“Paris.”
“Paris?” repeated Amy, remembering Mr. Tanner’s colleague had mentioned an architect from Paris, that had come to supervise the Butterfly’s construction. “And this house, Tom?”
“I saw it. I just saw it... and I built it for you. In 2010, I found out my parents had died. Let’s say... Mr. Tanner helped,” said Tom, distracted.
“So Mr. Tanner lied to me.”
“Yes, of course... he couldn’t tell you I was still alive. It was supposed to be a surprise.”
“Well, it was more like a fright,” laughed Amy, beginning to relax.
“So, Amy... how has life treated you?”
“Life...” Amy exhaled, thinking suddenly of Paul. “These last twelve years have been sad and lonely for me too. Your departure caused me all kinds of psychological problems, you know? There’s still some...” but no, she would not mention Paul. Paul wasn’t part of this story, he had nothing to do with it. “I think everything will work out, I’ll be the woman you used to know once more. Perhaps older but... Tom, I will...”
“I’m so glad. It’s strange, we haven’t seen each other for twelve years, but it’s like I last saw you yesterday. Don’t you feel the same? As if time didn’t go by... you look well with short hair, by the way.”
“Thank you... I feel the same way. As if I last saw you yesterday,” Amy laughed, nervous. “So... why Dingle?”
“Dingle. Don’t you think it’s just a wonderful place? Solitary, far away from the world... so calm and comforting,” answered Tom with an air of mystery, looking around, even when the darkness covered everything.
“Tom, what I feel is... this is so hard. I just can’t believe it.”
“Why? Look, touch me. Pinch me. I’m flesh and bone!” he said, amused.
“Then... why have you been showing up in my dreams? In them, you were dead...”
Tom considered this for a couple of seconds and nodded, frowning. He took a couple of drags on his cigarette, staring with curiosity at the light that came from the faraway cave.
“I don’t know, Amy. You don’t have the gift. I mean... you don’t have visions. So don’t pay too much attention to your dreams. They mean nothing,” answered Tom, disregarding a matter he didn’t seem to want to discuss.
“Ok... what about your visions?”
“They’re ok. Better. Under control.”
“Can you control them?”
“Yes. I’ve learnt to. I just have to take a deep breath and look at something charming. Something that I find exciting and fascinating... and the visions just go away. Now that you’re with me that will be so much easier.
They stared at ea
ch other’s eyes for an instant. Tom’s green, intense gaze hypnotized Tom. Her nervous tic on her lip vanished. Her mind went numb for a couple of seconds and suddenly... everything around her stopped existing. Her fears disappeared. And so did her suffering. In Amy’s world, there was only room for Tom.
Paul sensed from his hotel room that something was wrong. Amy wouldn’t return his insistent calls, and he began to fear the worst. Someone had wanted him away from Dingle. Paul was in the way. He needed to know that Amy was fine, so he called Samuel to ask him to go check on her. Again, he received nothing but bad news.
“Kim Becker... was just found dead in the river.”
“Kim?” asked Paul, concerned. “Twenty-five years old...” he murmured.
“I’m losing my mind, Paul. There are no leads. We’ve searched the area and there are still no leads. It’s been four girls now, Paul... we let our guard down. We let our guard down and we didn’t...” Paul couldn’t see him, but Samuel threw his hands on his face and began to sob. “The town is preoccupied,” he managed to say with a hoarse and broken voice.
“Samuel, please. You have to go to the Butterfly. I have a bad feeling.”
“What? Amy?”
“Someone made me come to Berlin because they wanted me out of Dingle.”
“I’m sorry Paul, you’re not making a lot of sense.”
“Samuel, I’ll explain to you later. Now please, hurry, go to Amy’s house.”
“Don’t worry Paul, I’m on my way.”
But Paul couldn’t stop worrying. The closest flight to Ireland or London was still two days away. Everything else for that night or the following morning was booked. Cursing his situation, he booked a flight to Ireland two days from that night. First thing in the morning. Praying to a God he didn’t believe in, he hoped to be able to see Amy again, safe and sound.
Amy refused to sleep. She didn’t want to close her eyes. She wanted to freeze the moment, and enjoy every single second of Tom’s company, for whom her feelings had never disappeared. Sitting in the porch, sharing cigarettes and making up for the lost time. She would’ve stayed like that forever.
“So, Tom, are you out of danger now?”
“I am. We can finally be happy, Amy. I think someone’s coming,” he said, listening intently. Some slow steps were coming towards Butterfly.
Agent Samuel Mhic approached them silently. He exhaled relieved when he noticed Amy sitting in the porch.
“Is everything okay around here?” he asked serious. He couldn’t find himself smiling after everything that had happened in Dingle.
“Yes, of course. We’re just hanging out,” answered Amy, smiling towards Tom.
Samuel looked around to make sure everything was in order. It was dark, and the flickering light that came from a faraway cave caught his eye. But he didn’t pay too much attention. He had a long and tough night ahead, with Kim’s body, badly bruised, waiting for him.
“Well then, I don’t mean to annoy. Good night Amy, take care.”
“Good night.”
Amy looked at Tom, laughing, as if agent Samuel’s arrival had been an amusing and exciting mishap.
“Want to go to bed?” he proposed.
“No! I want to stay here with you all night...”
“Well, we could stay in bed all night together, maybe doing something other than talking...” Tom suggested, amused.
Amy laughed. It had been years since the last time she had laughed like that. Her nervousness had vanished and her body had stopped shaking. She was beginning to believe that Tom would truly stay by her side forever. With her. There was no danger anymore, and his age and maturity had helped him to control his visions. His gift. His curse. So many great news! Amy was really happy for him. But also, for herself. Her life finally had meaning, and it could stop being so gray and dark... even the bleak twilights of Dingles cliff would seem to be full of colors thanks to Tom’s presence in it.
In the bedroom, they stared at each other lovingly. Tom undressed Amy slowly. He caressed with desire every inch of her skin. He tasted the moment and among fiery kisses, warm embraces and soft caresses, they made love. It was beautiful and intense. Just like it had been when they were younger and experimenting with each other. Elated, they fell asleep at three in the morning. Skin against skin. They couldn’t stand to be apart after all that time.
Despite having him physically by her side, when she closed her eyes, Amy saw Tom. He was walking away from her, and a hand that was not his pressed her mouth, preventing her from speaking. He was looking at Amy with red and scared eyes. He seemed to be about to cry. About to scream. But he couldn’t. The sky turned gray and Tom disappeared, unable to say a word. Amy woke up in the middle of the night, confused, and unable to go back to sleep. She looked at Tom. He was still fast asleep. She was so unused to looking at him like that... she remembered the tormentous nights Tom had spent unable to sleep because of his nightmares. Now, he even smiled in his sleep. Minutes later, staring lovingly at a lock of hair that fell rebellious on Tom’s forehead, Amy heard steps coming from the hallway. Again those steps... slow at first. Quick at the end. As if someone from another world were walking from side to side of the hall. Amy, scared and unable to rise from her bed, tried to look through the gap of the unclosed door. Her eyes were not tricking her this time. Her imagination might have been getting the best of her, but not her eyes... She saw a shadow. She saw it several times. Running fast, nervous, agitated. Amy closed her eyes and lied down on Tom’s bony shoulder. When she looked at him again, his face wasn’t calm anymore. He wasn’t smiling. He looked as he did when he used to dream of the butterflies that tormented him, and he suddenly knocked Amy down from the bed without waking up. Amy stared at him from the floor, paralyzed. He kept sleeping, but she could sense his suffering from the expression on his face. Again, she felt fear, and went to the guest’s room to try to catch some sleep for the rest of the night. The steps never ceased, but Paul’s aroma on the pillow calmed Amy a little bit, and she finally fell asleep untroubled.
The following morning, the smell of coffee invaded the Butterfly. When Amy walked down to the kitchen, she found Tom preparing a delicious breakfast and singing a song.
“When the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?”
Colplay’s Fix You... Amy was reminded of her teenage neighbor back in London who used to play that song over and over again. She found it peculiar that Tom would be singing precisely that song. But... did Tom like to sing? Twenty-five years old Tom had never even taken her dancing.
“You’re happy,” greeted him Amy, kissing him on the lips.
“Very. I slept like a baby. Why did you go to sleep to the other room?”
“You knocked me off the bed in your sleep,” laughed Amy.
“Really? I’m terribly sorry.”
“That’s okay.”
“Coffee?”
“Yes, please. I need it!” answered Amy cheerfully.
Amy still had many questions to ask Tom. So she decided it would be best to leave Butterfly and walk around town.
“Have you been there?”
“I’ve been by the port...” answered Tom. “But that’s pretty much it. As I said before, I wanted everything to be a surprise, and I was waiting for the right time... I didn’t want you to stumble upon me down by Dingle.”
Did Tom know about Paul? Paul! Amy had completely forgotten about him with everything that had happened. She looked at her mobile and saw she had several missed calls from Paul. She decided to call later, he would surely be too busy with his expositions. What Amy couldn’t imagine, was that Paul was wondering the streets of Berlin, awaiting for the day he could go back to Dingle. To see with his own eyes that Amy was out of danger.
“Amy,” said Tom while she was looking at her mobile. “Forget it. You’re with me now.”
Tom’s t
one was not nice. It wasn’t threatening, either. But odd. Amy nodded, and they both decided to drive to Dingle to buy food. The atmosphere was not friendly, but Amy still didn’t know another corpse had appeared in the river. When she ran into old Rowan, she was afraid he would once more say something rude and violent to her. But he didn’t even look at her. She was talking to Tom, distracted, while the few people that walked by her in that cloudy and sad day stared at her from the distance.
When they went back home, Derek Harrison, mister Tanner’s colleague, was awaiting for Amy by the porch. She didn’t remember his name, but she remembered his face and, once more, her intuition told her not to trust him.
“Miss Campbell,” greeted her, ignoring Tom.
“I’m sorry, I can’t remember your name,” answered Amy drily.
“Derek Harrison. I just came over here to make sure everything was okay.”
“Everything’s alright mister Harrison,” Amy’s voice sounded annoyed. As usual, this man bothered her. “Why are you really here?”
“I’ve told you. To make sure you’re alright,” repeated Derek eerily.
“Why should anything be wrong?” asked Amy, looking at Tom.
“Nothing in particular, miss Campbell... nothing,” answered Harrison, glancing at Tom and going back to his Chevrolet to leave the Butterfly.
“That man freaks me out,” said Amy to Tom, once Harrison was away from earshot. “That’s the second time he comes, and he always wants to make sure ‘everything’s alright’... I don’t even know who he is. He said he was friends with your lawyer, mister Tanner.”
“Oh, I knew he seemed familiar... He’s also a lawyer. I think he lives in Ireland.”
“And why does he care so much about me?”
“A lonely woman, living by a cliff in a faraway house...” murmured Tom.
“There have been several murders in Dingle, did you know? Three dead women were found in the river.”
“Four,” said Tom without thinking.
“Four?”
“Did you just say four?”
“Tom, don’t play with me. I said three. You said four.”
Where Oblivion Dwells Page 8