Pulse of Heroes

by A. Jacob Sweeny

  Elliot watched as Michelle’s friends walked arm in arm with her towards the gravesite. That was the natural order of things. She was there with others like her, others that loved her and cared for her. When he saw Michelle stumble it took all the discipline he had not to rush to her side. He knew that his presence would only distract her from what was really important, saying goodbye to a friend, but he also couldn’t stay away from her. He knew better than anyone what she had been through, and was very worried about her. He felt that he had failed her because he never got the chance to tell her personally about her friend’s death, a death that he blamed himself for. He couldn’t make peace with what he had done to the poor girl’s life. He tried to get a better look at Michelle’s face so he could judge her emotional state, but she was wearing big sunglasses, which he understood to mean that her eyes were swollen from crying.

  Elliot had seen Michelle cry more than he had ever wanted to, and all he wanted to do now was to make her happy and make up for everything. He watched as she took her place between her parents and his grandson, thinking that right there those two people were the only ones he really cared about. He loved Xander and hated to watch him age. How many more years would he be by his side before he found himself all alone once again?

  Xander put his arm around Michelle’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly. He was glad to see her back home, he told her. Michelle looked at him, wondering how much he knew about everything that had taken place. Was Elliot somewhere around? Michelle felt guilty that her mind wandered away from Francesca. He had to be there, she thought, watching as Rion laid a bouquet on Francesca’s casket. Mr. Meyers from the market was also present; he and his wife had donated the flower arrangements as a gift. After a few prayers in Latin, the priest asked if anyone else had anything to say about Francesca and all eyes turned to Michelle. She had not planned on talking. In fact, she had never been to a funeral before. What was she supposed to say? She scanned the hopeful faces, and Rion gave her an assuring smile that said, ‘You can do this.’ Could she? Michelle wondered, looking over at the trees that separated the church grounds from the parking lot, as if she would find the answer there. Elliot wondered if she had picked up on his presence. Was she searching for him? He smiled at her even though he knew she couldn’t see him. He was proud of her. She had survived a horrible ordeal that most people wouldn’t. She was stronger than she knew. Michelle was stronger than any of them knew.

  After a short and heartfelt speech, Michelle placed her flowers on Francesca Bianchetti’s casket and said her goodbye. But when the casket was lowered into the earth and everybody threw in their last farewell flowers, Michelle felt her stomach churn. She wanted to remain there alone, just for a few minutes. Samantha asked if she wanted her to stay with her, but Michelle refused and just thanked her for showing up. Everyone including Michelle’s parents slowly made their way out of the small cemetery towards the parking lot. Rion was the last to leave, and before he did he asked her if she thought it was wise to stay there all alone.

  “I’m sure. And besides, I’m not alone. You’re here, Elliot is here. I’m sure of it.” Rion looked at her in surprise, but then again Xander was there, why wouldn’t Elliot show up too? Anybody could come to that conclusion. As he started walking away she asked him if he wanted his handkerchief back, or if she should wash it first. “It’s only tears,” she said, unfolding it to show him. “I didn’t blow my nose in it, I swear.”

  “Why don’t you keep it. I have plenty more,” he told her, looking at the wet rag.

  “Ok, uncle,” she teased.

  “Don’t call me that,” Rion said, only partly amused, and began walking down towards the parking lot.

  “Why not?” she called after him, wondering if she had hurt his feelings. Rion didn’t answer her right away, although just as she thought that he probably hadn’t heard her, he called back to her that it made him feel old.

  Once Rion had left, Michelle crouched down and looked at the open grave and the flower-strewn casket. So that was where everyone ended. From dust to dust, finally made sense. But not everyone; not everyone returned to the earth from which they came. Some stayed on to watch sunset after sunset. Michelle wondered which was better. She talked to Francesca as if she were still alive. She told her about everything that had happened to her in Europe and then she apologized profusely for not being there on her actual birthday. Her tears flowed as if a levy had been broken, and she herself wondered how many tears a human body could create per day. Michelle realized that Francesca was the only person she had ever really spoken to about her relationship with Elliot. And now her confidant was gone. She cried for herself and she cried for Francesca. She even found herself crying for Vilna and her mean father Haden. And then she cried about Elliot and asked Francesca what she should do, as if the dead woman could give her some magical answer.

  Michelle sat alone at the gravesite for a good twenty minutes before her mother got out of the car and began making her way back to the cemetery to fetch her daughter. She figured that Michelle had been there alone for long enough, and that the best thing for her would be to come home and be with her family. But as she headed down the stone walkway she saw another figure walking towards the cemetery and wondered if perhaps Rion, whom she liked well enough, had returned to consol Michelle. They had obviously developed some sort of a friendship. She marveled that she had never even heard of him until the introduction at the airport, and yet Michelle seemed very open and comfortable with him. He was a bit too mature for her daughter, she thought, and decided to catch up with him. Except that when she looked back up the path he was nowhere to be found. Michelle’s mother looked all around, and even behind her back down the way she had just come, but there was not a soul in sight.

  Elliot stood quietly behind Michelle because he still hadn’t worked out exactly what he was going to say to her. But Michelle turned around to face him without an ounce of surprise. She had just finished saying his name and wondered if he had heard her. Elliot immediately grabbed her hand and helped her to her feet.

  “She’s not here anymore, is she?” she asked, staring at the mound of freshly dug dirt that stood on the ledge of the grave.

  “No. Would you stay around an old shell that couldn’t house you anymore?” he asked.

  “She was very pretty when she was young. It’s not fair what time does to our bodies, is it?” Michelle said, turning to look at his face so he would know that there was more than one question carried in her words. Elliot knew exactly what she meant, and sadly he had no answer. He just wanted to take her away, anywhere. Michelle’s mother’s voice was heard from down the hill. She called for Michelle and climbed up until she saw her daughter standing next to someone. “Mom, I’m fine,” Michelle called back, hoping that she wouldn’t come any closer. Her mother squinted in the sun’s rays and tried to make out the figure standing next to her daughter.

  “Michelle, come with me?” Elliot said quietly, looking at her mother. Michelle looked at Elliot, then back down the hill.

  “Where?” she asked.

  “Anywhere.”

  “Mom!” Michelle called out, and her mother stopped in her tracks. “I’m fine. I’m going to go with Elliot. For a drive or something.” Michelle’s mother became very confused because she hadn’t seen Elliot in church or during the funeral. How could she have missed him? And what had become of Rion?

  “Are you sure, baby?” her mom asked, already knowing the answer. “Don’t be too late.” From where she stood, Elliot was towering over Michelle like a protective giant, and their long shadows on the grass only emphasized that image. She turned to go. Michelle was going to be fine.

  Elliot picked up the shovel that stood to the side of the mound and filled it halfway with fresh dirt. He handed it to Michelle and told her to go ahead and dump it into the grave. She looked at him confused, and he told her it was an old custom.

  “I can’t,” she said while Elliot recited a short prayer in another language. He the
n explained to her that when a mourner hasn’t thrown fresh earth on top of a casket it means that they refuse to let the deceased go. He gently held the shovel with Michelle and told her that she had to let go. Francesca wasn’t in the grave anymore, and her body had to return to the earth from where it was raised. Slowly and gently he turned the shovel while Michelle held on to it. Michelle was scared half to death when she heard the sound of the dirt falling onto the lid of the casket, but Elliot held on to her tightly. After a few seconds, she realized that something had changed. Her chest was less tight and she could breath in deeper. Elliot reminded her that death was not a punishment, but just a part of the natural order of things. His words soothed Michelle’s pain.

  Chapter 21

  Michelle inserted the key into the old lock and jiggled it the same way that Francesca used to. Earlier, in the church parking lot, a man had approached her saying that he was the Executor of Francesca’s estate, and given her a key to Francesca’s home. He told her that she could stop by the house and take a few of Francesca’s things as keepsakes, so long as she didn’t take anything that had a sticker on it. Francesca had left everything to the church, and the truth was that all Michelle was interested in were her photo albums.

  Now, Elliot stood behind her and wondered if he should mention anything about Hadeno’s men having been there. But what was the point? They were dead and Francesca was gone. Michelle’s fingers were shaky, so Elliot took the key from her because she was getting upset again. He turned the key and the door opened with ease.

  Michelle stood at the threshold, afraid to walk in. They didn’t belong there without Francesca. Elliot took her hand and slowly ushered her into the house. The little cottage looked like it always had. Nothing was changed, save for Francesca’s absence. Michelle walked around the house from room to room as if she was looking for something, but Elliot knew that that something was not there to be found. Michelle’s footsteps became more frantic, and Elliot met her in the hallway and physically stood in her way.

  “Michelle, she’s not here. You can’t do this to yourself.” He should know, considering how many times he had acted in the exact same way after losing a wife or child. It was torture for him to see Michelle go through the same thing.

  “This feels wrong. I can smell her like she’s here but I can’t find her,” Michelle said at him rather than to him. He gently led Michelle to the couch and told her that she just needed to breathe and let her mind catch up with her emotions.

  As she sat, Michelle spotted the old photo album that she had been looking for and jumped back up to fetch it. She flipped through the pages, looking at the familiar images when a single photo fell out of the album and landed face down on the rug.

  “That’s strange,” Michelle said, mostly to herself, noticing that the picture was newer with a glossy sheen. She picked it up and turned it over only to have her mouth fall open. Elliot, who was standing by the mantle, turned to look at her because he heard Michelle’s heartbeat begin to flutter irregularly and she was panting. He had been on guard with her since Romania, keeping himself completely tuned into any changes that might signal that she wasn’t doing well.

  “What’s wrong?” He ran over to her and noticed that her face had gone pale. She let go of the photo and Elliot followed it with his eyes until it landed on the floor. Only this time it was facing right side up. It was a picture of him and Michelle both looking back in surprise; it was the one that was taken right before they left in the car for the Prom. “I almost forgot about this,” he said, shaking his head, but Michelle was still as white as a ghost.

  “I didn’t give this to her,” she said, first quietly, and then repeated herself louder.

  “Michelle, you need to calm down. It’s not a big deal. I know I told you I don’t like to have my picture taken, but…”

  “No!” she yelled, “you’re not getting this! We never printed out the photos! My mom lost the camera on the plane on the way to Zurich. This photo was still in it. She had to buy a new camera in Budapest!” Elliot studied the image, trying to grasp what Michelle was saying.

  “So, you’re telling me that neither you nor your mom had this photo printed? And that the last time your mother had the camera was on the plane to Europe?” Michelle nodded. Elliot got up and began pacing around the room, still holding the photo in his hand.

  “Son of a bitch!” He yelled out so loud that Michelle jumped an inch off the couch.

  “What?” she cried.

  “This is how they found you, and me. Look at it again,” he said, handing the photo back to Michelle. He yelled again in anger and cursed in some other language.

  “I don’t understand what I am supposed to be looking at. It’s just you and me.” Elliot pointed to the street sign in the upper left corner of the photo. It read ‘Argos Vela Way’.

  “It’s better than a freakin’ map, don’t you get it? By some crazy chance Hadeno’s men must have found the camera. They probably took the same plane out of Zurich right after you and your family got off it!” Michelle stared at Elliot in disbelief. “They know what I look like, Michelle. I’ve been walking around with this same face for 5000 years! Can you understand now why I don’t like pictures? And look at me, standing there like a deer in the headlights. All they had to do was find out who sat in their seats before they did. That’s how they found you, they had your name.” Michelle still couldn’t believe the chances of that happening.

  “But all that information is private. The airlines don’t have the right to give it out,” Michelle tried to reason.

  “Michelle, please. You know what we’re capable of. I can sit here and practically get you to tell me what you wore on your first day of school if I wanted.” Michelle looked at Elliot, confused because he had told her that he couldn’t read minds.

  “I can’t. I can’t tell what you’re thinking right now, but I can reach memories that are locked deep inside the brain. What do you think hypnosis is? I can do that with one hand tied behind my back. It’s no big deal. But that’s not the point. They had your family’s name and they had a street, all they had to do was get on a computer to search out the rest.” Elliot asked when she had first met Hadeno, and Michelle told him that she had met Vilna first, at the hotel in Budapest.

  “I bet the name of the hotel was on your family’s itinerary. All that information is in your file. All they had to do was get to some poor airline employee to get everything. Oh Michelle. I am so sorry, but they had you in their sights as soon as you landed in Hungary. I wish I could kill that bastard all over again!” Elliot raised his fists in anger and his eyes began growing brighter.

  “Then why didn’t he hypnotize me to ask me where you were?” Michelle asked, afraid of the answer. Elliot told her that she couldn’t be sure he didn’t. That was when Michelle told him about the powder she found in her drinking glass.

  “Yeah, that would help him get into your brain. We can do it on our own, but if you’re already relaxed it’s that much easier. You didn’t know where I was, and that’s probably what kept you alive.”

  “I thought that Vilna really liked me, for me,” Michelle said quietly, hurt that everything had been a lie. Elliot couldn’t understand why Michelle cared about what people thought of her. Especially Hadeno, who he wished he could fillet piece by piece for what he had done.

  ”I’m sure they liked you,” Elliot said, stroking her hair, although his thoughts returned to Hadeno having his way with her. Elliot got up and went to the kitchen, returning with a bottle of Francesca’s homemade Limoncello and two small glasses. He asked her if she thought Francesca would mind, and Michelle smiled and shook her head. She had helped Francesca make that batch herself.

  “Even better,” he said, pouring some of the sweet concoction into both glasses. Michelle took a sip and Elliot told her that it was perfect after he drank most of his.

  “They came here, didn’t they? That’s why she has this photo? They were asking her where you were.” Michelle was angry as
she sipped her drink. Elliot took Michelle’s hand in his and that was all she needed to know. Tears. “What did they do to her? She’s dead because of me, I knew it. I knew it all along.” Elliot told her that if Francesca had died because of anyone it was because of him; he would have to carry that burden. But they would probably never know for sure. Francesca had died of a heart attack. Sad, Michelle sipped on her drink and flipped through the photo album again. When she found what she was looking for she turned it so Elliot could see. She pointed at the image of the beautiful woman with the long brown hair and perfect lips and then waited for Elliot’s response.

  “That’s Ruth,” he said, sighing heavily. “She was my wife. There’s no point in going back there. You know what I am. You know how long I have lived. I don’t want to talk about it because it’s not constructive to you or me. It’s only going to hurt you.” He pulled the album off Michelle’s lap and shut it. Michelle tried to grab it again but he raised it above his head. “No!”

  “Then how am I supposed to trust you about anything?” Michelle protested, getting off the couch to pour herself more Limoncello. She then walked out the back door and slammed it behind her. Elliot knew that what had happened with Ruth was going to haunt him as soon as he had heard Michelle yelling at him about having a child out of wedlock that night at the Prom. And now, with Ruth’s image imprinted in her head, what was he supposed to do?

  “Michelle, is being married to someone wrong? Why do you insist on torturing yourself? I don’t understand you sometimes,” he said from the back porch. “Do you think it’s realistic for me to have lived this long and never feel lonely? Never to love anyone? Never to marry and have my own family? Was I supposed to stay some virgin boy for 5000 years until I met you? Well I didn’t, and you’d be mighty selfish to wish that on me. I am a grown man, sweetie. I know it’s hard for you to reconcile that, but you’re deceiving yourself if you only go by my outward appearance. Do you have any idea how many times I have kissed children goodnight, or how many times I’ve had to consol my own daughters when a young man they were in love with didn’t return their affection? All those memories and experiences are me. When you say that you love me, do you even know what that means? Do you love me, or do you love this?” Elliot pointed to his body with his hands; he was dead serious.