Love Lonely

by William C. Cole

  “I’m not sure how I can be of assistance with this,” he uttered anxiously.

  Fyad took notice, “Albrecht were you aware of the history of the beloved toy we all cherished as kids called Marbles.”

  There was no answer.

  “Are you familiar with the excavation of Mohenjo-daro?” he didn’t wait for a response. “During this work back in the eighteen hundreds marbles were discovered. They have been referenced to in Roman and Egypt writings. But, the interesting fact is marbles, the toy as we know them and you know Albrecht and I so enjoyed playing with them as a child, were developed in Germany.”

  Albrecht was a smart man. He knew exactly where the conversation was heading. Holding his reply until the story was complete was the wise thing to do. He was being enlightened by a powerful and dangerous man about a subject he knew well.

  “Yes that’s correct. A German glassblower invented something called Marble Scissors in 1846. This device is used to blow marbles. I would have thought you would know this as in addition to your mastery in clock making, you have graced us with some of the finest glass artwork.”

  “Fyad I am versed in this craftsmanship. What I don’t understand is how this all relates to me,” he asked.

  “Please my dear friend let me continue. With today’s technology one only has to tap a few keys. Overseeing my country’s resources empowers my ability to acquire enormous amounts of intelligence. You know what the amusing part of this story is Albrecht?” Again he didn’t allow time for a reply.

  “I entered your name into a public website by the name of Ancestry.com. What I learned made complete sense. It did not surprise me in the least. Your great, great, great grandfather was that Master Glass Blower.”

  “You’re correct. This skill was handed down four generations.”

  “I want to know the identity of the ones responsible for the fire,” he ended the story.

  “Fyad, how would I know that?”

  “Utilizing a more sophisticated method of gathering information I am quite certain you are the inventor of the Alley Marble Burn,” he cut to the chase. “Now before you respond to my request, please grasp the importance of this tragic attack which was directed at someone I care dearly about. You would also be as upset as I if anyone harmed someone within your family. Albrecht, I believe you have knowledge of the persons responsible for this fire?”

  “Fyad I had nothing to do with your friend’s misfortune or do I know who bears the blame.”

  “I think you do know. You may not realize it yet, but I trust I can jog your memory,” his words were meant to frighten the man.

  “Yes, in the past I have fabricated these components, but it has been years. I am certainly not connected to what you speak about.”

  “Albrecht, I trust what you are telling me is true. On the other hand I believe there is information you possess that will be of assistance to me. I want the names of all the tradesmen who can produce this system,” he demanded. Then he asked, “Within the past year has anyone made a similar inquiry?”

  “Fyad my clientele rely on my discreetness. If it were found out that I provided their identities to others I would be ruined.”

  “You have no choice my friend. I wish there was another way but you are either going to provide me with what I have asked for or you will speak with my friend,” he nodded to the man guarding the storefront.

  “Please Fyad don’t do this, please.”

  “I have little time to spare,” he motioned again to the door.

  Albrecht knew that if he hoped to live until day’s end it would be necessary to supply the Prince with some information, maybe not all, nonetheless some.

  Fyad turned for the door.

  “Wait. About a month or so ago, a man and young lady paid me a visit. I was quizzed on this very subject. They knew of my prior involvement in making the device and were looking at making a purchase. Their names were never mentioned and I did not reveal or acknowledge anything to them.”

  “What do you remember of them?”

  “The man was an American average size and the women French, petite. She stood outside exactly where your companion is standing. They spoke to each other in French as he entered. He was the only one to speak to me but I did get a look at her when the door was opened. What I found odd was she wore a scarf wrapped around her face. It was a cooler day so I presumed she was keeping herself warm. On the other hand it seems more likely she was concealing her identity. However it is not for me to judge my customers.”

  “As you will recall my resources are far reaching. I am aware your computer contains pictures of every person who has entered your establishment. There are hidden cameras within the shop snapping pictures from every conceivable angle. They are automatically downloaded. We need to go look at them and you will identify these people to me.”

  There was no sense in resisting. They made their way to a small office. The craftsman sat then tapped a few keys on his computer. He narrowed his search to the week, then the day, then the hour which the visit had taken place. Within seconds the two faces appeared on the screen.

  “Fyad please tell no one of what you have learned here,” he pleaded.

  “You are a good man. I wish no harm to you and your family. Please print this for me. Provide me with the identity of those making the device and our visit will be concluded. We will never speak of this again. Your secret will be safe with me.”

  Fyad left the store in possession of what he had come for. With his head he nodded instructions for his companion to re-enter the store while he proceeded to their automobile. His colleague was already in the shop.

  “Sir, I gave your Highness all he asked for,” terrified in the presence of the soldier.

  “And we wish to thank you. What I would like to make clear is that no one will hear of our visit here today.”

  With that he took three photographs out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket. One was of Albrecht’s wife, the other two of his children. He held them close enough that the craftsman could view them.

  “Please, please do not harm my family. I have told Fyad the truth. I gave him everything he asked for.”

  “We have faith in you. We believe you to be trustworthy. But if we learn you have misinformed us or alerted anyone to our visit, you will wish you hadn’t,” while saying this he made reference to the pictures.

  “I vow the truth has been told today. It will not be alluded to ever again.”

  “Good, you have a wonderful day Mr. Friedman.”

  He returned to the car. Getting into the driver’s seat he waited for instructions from his superior.

  “Let’s return to the airport. For now I wish to return home. We will run face recognition on this man,” he held out the picture. “You will find his location. Then you are to follow him. I want to know everything about him. Where he lives, where he works, when he sleeps, what he eats, wife, girlfriend, I want to know him like I know my family. If he was responsible for this, he will pay dearly. Run the girl. With her face being covered I doubt we will get a hit. Her eyes were clear. We may get lucky.”

  Jacob McGinnis with his head bowed, knelt at his wife’s monument. He spent a great deal of time there yet recently the visits were more frequent. When he finished he would feel calmed, as if she had resolved his troubles.

  He began to speak to her in a hushed voice. “Hanna, I pray your journey has been a peaceful one. I truly wish you were still here with me. The void in my heart grows larger each day I do not have you by my side. Isn’t it ironic that our family, with all its wealth and power was unable to alter the outcome of your passing? Now one of our best friends is facing the same destiny.”

  He went silent for a few minutes to gather his thoughts. Jacob was tired. There had been too many nights spent alone. He felt like lying down beside her tombstone, falling asleep and maybe, just maybe he would wake up to find her by his side.

  “It’s not fair. I’m the one who should have met his fate. Being the ruthless one
of the family, crushing others to advance my interests, which are meaningless without the ones you love by your side. Sandy is what I live for now. So much of her life is spent in harm’s way. I pray each night that she will return safely. If I should lose her I could not find the will to go on. Please Hanna, speak with her while she sleeps. Tell her it is time for her to surrender to a life without being encompassed by the endangerments of the world.”

  Again he gathered his thoughts. Whether or not he was connecting with the afterlife of his wife was irrelevant. The console of these moments served as his antidote.

  “People spend a whole lifetime searching for the reason of their being when it is staring them in the face all along. When you wake every morning beside the one you love, that is what life is all about. Money, power, poverty doesn’t change that. The sad thing is too many lose the love of their life before they realize it.”

  He stood, “Hanna, please forgive me for my wrongs. I love you. You will always be my true love.”

  Jacob kissed the inside of his fingers then touched the marble monument. He made his way down the path. When the opening of the trail was reached, he turned the opposite direction of the ranch house heading towards the stables. The only occupants of the barn this time of night were the horses. As he made his way through, he patted the animals as they curiously stuck their neck out of the stalls. After spending time with the animals he exited at the other end, again not in the direction of his home. A log chalet style dwelling was the only building in his sight. It was nestled among the Kentucky trees blurred by an evening mist. Not a huge structure but beautifully designed. It featured a wraparound porch housing carved wooden chairs along with a small swinging bench. Its vaulted ceiling showcased the dominating windows on its face.

  Three or four times he stopped, hesitated, turned back towards his own residence but then continued approaching the wooden structure. When he reached the stairs he once again paused.

  Jacob was frequently in the company of the most powerful men in the world without so much as a hint of being the slightest bit uncomfortable. Still here he stood, second guessing himself, feeling uncommonly awkward. He took a deep breath, stepped up the porch and took one more breath before knocking on the door. There was no noticeable reaction from within. He knocked again, still nothing. Second guessing his intentions he turned towards the stairs. As he placed his foot on the second stair the door opened.

  A hand on the railing provided balance, enabling him to look back at the entrance. What he saw was his assistant Brooklyn centered in the opening, outlined by the bright yellowish light escaping from the interior. With her two arms crossed at her breast holding a white terrycloth housecoat together she glowed like an angel. The professional office persona had vanished. Her long dark hair fell onto her shoulders. The glasses and touch of makeup she wore by the day were gone. Almost speaking out loud he said to himself my god she is gorgeous.

  “Jacob, is there something wrong,” she asked with a concerning look.

  “No, no, I was just, just out for a walk and saw that your light was on. I thought I would drop by and say hello. I should go. I’m sorry if I have disturbed you. Forgive me.”

  Brooklyn had not experienced this clumsiness in her boss. He was in control of every aspect of his business, never faltering. She had never heard him double taking on words. And yet, here he stood rambling like a teenager caught putting a baseball through the neighbor’s window. Something was wrong.

  “Jacob, would like to come in for a coffee?”

  “Oh, no Brooklyn, I shouldn’t have bothered you. This was a mistake. I should get back to the house,” the jitteriness continued.

  “The Jacob McGinnis I know does not knock on someone’s door unless there is a well defined reason,” she said with a pleasant smile.

  “Please, I insist, come in,” she stepped inside with her back leaning on the opened door. “Please, I would venture to say you may require something a tad stronger than coffee,” they both chuckled.

  As they made their way into the living area, Jacob looked around the place. It was an impressive structure. Brooklyn did wonders with the interior decoration. The home was immaculately clean.

  “I haven’t set foot in here since you took up residency. The place looks wonderful. I had forgotten how beautiful the building is.”

  Motioning to the couch she said, “Jacob please, what can I get you to drink?”

  “Coffee would be perfect. Thank you.”

  The chalet was open concept. The entire main floor was visible from all angles. He watched her stand in the kitchen area preparing a coffee. On occasion she mixed his brew at their office so there was no need to ask how he liked it. The majority of time he took care of his own food and beverage needs. She was paid to take care of business.

  Brooklyn handed her boss his drink then sat across from him on an identical couch.

  “Jacob is there something bothering you. Would you like me to dress and head back to the office with you?”

  “No, Brooklyn. There is no business on the agenda this evening. I was just hoping to find someone to chat with. I think I have a touch of cabin fever.”

  “Absolutely, what’s on your mind? I’m all ears. Actually your visit is a pleasant surprise.”

  “I spent some time at Hanna’s memorial this evening. For years now I discuss my feelings with her and come away from our conversations with the belief she in some way talked some sense into me, solve my problems,” there was a pause.

  He gave her a look that said sorry for laying this on you. “Jacob, go on,” acknowledging that she was open to this dialogue.

  “Lately I come away from these visits empty. It’s like her spirit is no longer there, like she’s gone, for good. I sense she has set me free. I’ve developed guilt with regards to this.”

  “Jacob may I,” asking if he would care to hear her opinion. He nodded yes.

  “Hanna left us a long time ago. Your love for her is undeniable. I believe the emotion you are experiencing is closure. The length of time it takes to arrive at that point differs for everyone. A part of your heart will always be engraved with her memory, as it should be. But, there comes a time, as insensitive as it may seem, one must move on. I believe the time has come for you to step out a bit more. Attend one of the many events you are invited to. You need something other than work. You need to begin socializing.”

  “I’m not sure I could do that,” giving her an honest answer.

  “It would do you a world of good.”

  “You’re probably right. How can a person have everything that money can possibly purchase and end up feeling so alone? I always thought my life was so complete until recently. Sandy and David are rarely around. My visits to Hanna’s memorial leave me empty.”

  “Jacob some of us spend our whole lives chasing success. As you might have noticed my social life is, well, nonexistent, so I have given the subject a great deal of thought. I believe what happens to those of us who are so career driven is we fall in love with being lonely. We mistakenly accept the fulfillment arrived from our achievements in lieu of what’s really important. Having someone to share those special moments life provides. I refer to it as, love lonely.”

  He was listening and shook his head in agreement when he deciphered what she said.

  Their conversation continued for another half hour. They discussed solemn topics along with exchanges that provided laughter. When Jacob announced it was time for him to leave, both thanked one another for an enjoyable time. Jacob was happy with his decision to knock on her door. On his walk home the realization of Brooklyn’s social life was as nonexistent as his struck a chord with him. He liked her. Maybe the two should attempt their escape from a life of solitude together.

  ***

  David arrived at the Dead Heat at six, an hour before the meeting. He was hungry, so he took a seat at the bar. The early arrival was planned soon after setting up the appointment. It had been far too long since he had the pleasure of biting into one
of the establishment’s famous juicy burgers. Also missed was the conversation with Sebastian and Leven, the retired jockeys who owned the bar. They were in the riding business a long time, so if you enjoyed horse racing, their stories were entertaining to say the least.

  “Leven,” Sebastian called out. “David here says if you’re interested in winning another Kentucky Derby he will hook you up with a ride.”

  Leven approached the two men, “Thanks David, I appreciate the offer. To tell you the truth I don’t think I could even climb onto a horse nowadays, let alone make it out of the starting gate without falling off. When you get to be my age, getting out of bed is an achievement. It sucks to get old David.”

  “I think you’re selling yourself short Leven. I’m sure you’ve got another Derby in you. Just give me a call. The ride is yours.”

  David’s food arrived. The two entrepreneurs went about their duties. He savored each bite, washing it down with a frosted foamy draft. The hour flew by. Grabbing his beer he moved to an unoccupied table that would provide some privacy. As he sat, his guests came through the door. He waved them over.

  “David, this is my buddy Hunter.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” they shook hands.

  “Richard thanks for taking the time to meet with me. Hunter I appreciate your joining us. I’m sure you have better things to do while on leave.”

  Hunter smiled and Richard responded, “Anything for you my friend.”

  They ordered drinks while making small talk mostly about hockey. The two ex players could go on forever about the game. David inquired about Hunter’s background with the military. He was a Special Forces Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) Specialist. It was a dangerous line of work which saved many lives. David had an immense amount of respect for all military personnel. These women and men were prepared to give the greatest sacrifice for the safety of their country.