by Dermot Davis
“I can’t believe you want to do this,” Andrew said, his thoughts feeling jumbled.
“Well, let’s just say that at this point the very worst idea we had turns out to be the best. Or maybe it’s the only one, after all,” Fiona said cryptically.
“It wasn’t the worst idea, Fi, it’s just that maybe we’re going earlier than we had planned, right?” Andrew asked.
“I’ll bring as much money as I can and travel light, I guess,” Fiona said as she mentally computed what she would need to bring with her.
“I’ll email you the address here,” Andrew said, also shifting into planning mode. “I should call my mom.”
“You should definitely call your mom, dum-dum. I can’t believe you’re not calling her, like, every day, what is wrong with you?” Fiona chided.
“Road trip!” Andrew said with glee. “I’m am so excited; you have no idea!”
“Make sure to get some good rest, you hear? No all-night booze sessions with your new BFF there,” Fiona said, smiling.
“Love you, sweets,” Andrew said.
“Love you too, ex-con,” Fiona joked and kissing into the phone, hung up.
“Wow,” Andrew said as he gave the phone back to Dowling. “Have to take a rain check on the lab test thing tomorrow,” Andrew said, smiling. “Me and Fiona are hitting the road.”
“That’s okay, Andrew, another time,” Dowling said, unsure if they were making the right move. “Where are you two headed?”
“Basically, the idea was for us to… not run away, exactly, just to get out of town and get lost for a bit, travel around maybe. I could find work someplace and move on, I don’t know, it wasn’t like we totally planned it out.” Andrew paused when he realized how lame was sounding. “I guess, now that I’m on the run and everything, it kind of changes things. My dad went back to his hometown in Kansas. I thought that maybe we could head there first and see what kind of reception we get.”
“Just show up without notice?” Dowling asked.
“Yeah, well, he’s got a new family now and everything. I mean, we still keep in touch, not very regular or anything, but he’d definitely love to see me and I’m sure he’ll help us out,” Andrew explained.
“Well, going on a road trip is always exciting,” Dowling said, hoping to cheer Andrew up. “The way you’re doing it is definitely for the young, but, hey, that’s what being young is all about, huh? Just do it, right?”
“Yeah,” Andrew agreed, now wondering if it really was the right thing to be doing. “At least we’ll be together. Doesn’t matter what we’re doing, it’s when we’re together, everything makes sense,” he then said. “Hey, do you mind if I call my mom real quick?”
“No, of course not,” Dowling said, handing him back the phone. “Talk to her for as long as you want.”
When Andrew dialed, he immediately got her outgoing message. “Went straight to voice mail,” he said, returning the phone. “It’s late for her,” he said, checking the time. “I’ll try her tomorrow, maybe.”
“You should consider getting a prepaid phone,” Dowling suggested. “Pay as you go. If you pay by cash, you’ll get a new number and they won’t be able to trace it back to you. Just a thought.”
“Yeah, thanks, I might just do that,” Andrew said, realizing that his mind was now shifting into a new mode of thinking; a more secretive, criminal way of thinking that he definitely didn’t like.
Fiona got little sleep as she nervously looked out her bedroom window and awaited the new dawn. Careful not to tip off her dad as he prepared himself for work, she went about her normal breakfast routine. “How are you feeling?” he asked her as she poured some cereal into a bowl.
“Good,” she answered. “Not too sure yet,” she then added, realizing that it was not a general question. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“I’m not too sure, either,” he said, as if trying to ascertain his state of mind. “I slept well.”
“Well that’s something,” Fiona said, smiling.
“Let’s check in later,” he then said, closing his briefcase, preparing to leave.
“Have a great day at work, dad,” Fiona said, her mouth still chewing her cereal.
“Thanks, sweetie,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I love you. Enjoy your day.”
As soon as the front door closed behind him, Fiona let out a massive sigh of relief. Dumping out the remaining cereal that she never even wanted, she ran up the stairs to her bedroom. Within minutes, she was packed and ready to leave. Looking out her window to make sure there was no sign of her father or his car, she quickly left the room.
Reading out the address that Andrew gave her into her GPS, she turned her ignition. Her first driving direction came as she pulled out of the drive. Once through the gate, she took off heading south towards downtown LA.
Andrew gave a large wave when he saw her turn into the street. Scared and excited all at the same time he was nevertheless delighted to finally see her park. She rushed from her car to give him the warmest and most desperate hug that he had ever received. “Oh, you poor thing, you’re shaking,” she said, hugging him tighter. “Are you cold?”
“I didn’t think you’d show,” he confessed. “I’ve been waiting here for like—“
“I’m so sorry,” Fiona interrupted. “I got confused with the one-way streets back there and kept going around in circles... but I’m here now. We’re soul mates; of course I was going to show. I love you, darling.”
Hugging her even tighter, Andrew realized how weak, aimless and frightened he would be without her. “God, I need you so much,” he said. “Don’t ever leave me.”
“I won’t, sweetheart,” she said into his ear. “I will never leave you.”
Realizing that a strange man standing in a doorway of a house had been watching them with a smile upon his face, Fiona broke from the hug. “Who’s that?” she whispered to Andrew.
“Fiona, I’d like you to meet my good friend, Professor Dowling,” Andrew said loudly enough for Dowling to hear.
“Pleased to meet you,” Fiona said, extending her hand. “Thank you so much for taking care of him.”
“You make a terrific couple, you know that?” Dowling said, smiling broadly. “Very pleased to meet you, finally.”
Reaching into her purse, Fiona smiled and presented Andrew with his Angel’s baseball cap. Seeing his eyes opening wider and the delighted expression on his face made her heart warm. “Where did you find it?” he asked, taking it from her and looking at it like it was the most marvelous thing in the world.
“Turns out you left it at my place,” she said. “Believe it or not, this is his most prized possession in the entire world,” she explained to Dowling.
“It’s the simple things,” he said, turning to leave. “You two have the best time together and don’t you dare forget about me,” he warned Andrew.
“Thank you for everything, sincerely, Gus,” Andrew said. “This is not over, I promise. We’ll meet again.”
After Dowling saluted a parting gesture, he then closed the door. Andrew placed the baseball cap upon his head and turned once again to Fiona. “Let’s do this,” he said smiling.
“Do you want to drive?” she asked.
“Sure,” he answered as they went to their respective doors.
“We should probably use the GPS,” Fiona said, typing in their ultimate destination. “Obviously it will take us a while to get there but at least we can make sure not to get lost. Holy crap, it’s like thirteen hundred miles from here to Dodge City,” she said as the GPS screen loaded directions to their next destination.
“We’re in no hurry, right?” Andrew said and smiled. “Let’s go explore this great country of ours, what do you say?” he then said as he pulled out into traffic. “Put some good music on, girl,” he said, turning to give her a huge smile. “Let’s rock this road trip!”
Plugging her media player into the dashboard radio, Fiona played her favorite playlist. As they merged i
nto traffic on the 10 freeway heading out of Los Angeles, they sang loudly. Moving their bodies to the music, they tried unsuccessfully to get into sync. “I’m so happy, like you wouldn’t believe, right now,” Andrew practically shouted.
“So long, LA,” Fiona turned to shout behind her. “We’ll miss ya.”
“But we wouldn’t want to be ya,” Andrew joined in and they both laughed for no good reason.
Chapter 9
Simon tried to concentrate upon his own work but he felt too distracted by the mystery of Fiona's disappearance. He had just spent a few wasted hours on the internet searching for anything that he could find about Andrew Cox and his possible current whereabouts. Although Fiona had been missing for days, the pain of her absence was so severe that, to Simon, it felt like she’d been gone for years. He missed seeing her smiling face and he especially missed her positive and uplifting presence around the home. The large house felt so empty and cold without her.
In his mind he dwelled upon the fact that her recent behavior was so unusual that she must have been strongly and negatively influenced by her association with that boy. He was beginning to dislike him so much that he found it hard to even think about or mention his name.
He had thought several times about calling the police and maybe filing a missing person’s report. He hesitated though, and ultimately decided against it, as he didn’t want Fiona being recorded in a police report or to end up with any kind of a police file of her own. He certainly didn’t want her blaming him for his interference in her life. As she so often mentioned to him, she was a young woman, not a child, and old enough now to make her own decisions.
What galled him the most, however, was the fact that she had misled him; no, he felt stronger than that; she had downright tricked him. He hadn’t felt one bit different since their transfer of gifts and he didn’t know what angered him the most; her deceit or the fact that she felt like she had to deceive him to get what she wanted.
He was proud of the fact that they had always had an unusually trusting relationship; one where she could talk to him about anything. He had never known her as a liar; in fact, her honesty and innocence were her primary attractive traits. Just a few short months spent in the company of some young upstart and it’s like her life-long, upstanding morals and principles had been flushed right down the toilet. It was sickening to him.
If her physical life was not in danger, then most certainly her spiritual integrity was. Not to intervene, and live up to his responsibilities as a caring and loving father, would be no less than a karmic transgression. He was her father and legal guardian, after all.
She might not want or invite his interference but she was acting so out of character, that her logic and sanity were clearly impaired. He now felt that he must intervene. If she didn’t thank him right away, she would most definitely thank him later. Considering the mess that she was potentially making of her life, he could see no option but to do everything that he could to save her.
He must find his daughter, wherever she might be, and bring her home to safety. If, after finding her, he had to lock her up in her room to prevent a recurrence of her disappearance trick, then so be it. If he needed to be tough, and have her hate him in the short term, it would be worth it if he was saving her life and, most probably, her soul.
Where to begin his search was a mystery. If it was the boy that was doing the leading, he would be taking her someplace familiar to him. The country was large and diverse but it became smaller and more local by the connections that people had with each other. He needed to find out what people connections this young man possessed, whether those connections be family, friends or group affiliations. He could then track him down to the most likely destination.
Looking over his notes he realized that he had the kid’s home address; the home of where his mother resided. He should start there, maybe pay her a visit. Talking to Andrew’s mother might provide invaluable information that he could never obtain in internet searches.
Sunday being a good day to catch her at home, Simon decided to pay a visit to the house. Angela Cox looked younger than he had expected and she had a freshness to her face that he found attractive. “I’m Fiona’s father,” he explained when she opened the front door to him. “I’m terribly sorry to show up on your doorstep like this but I didn’t have a phone number for you—“
“Oh,” Angela interrupted, as if now realizing who he was. “Andrew’s girlfriend is called Fiona.”
“That’s right,” Simon said and smiled. “I’m her father.”
“Please come in,” Angela said, opening further the door. “I’m a bit slow at times, please forgive me.”
“Not at all,” Simon said, looking around the shabby room like he was mentally holding his nose. “How are you holding up?”
“Oh, it’s been hard,” Angela responded, fixing her clothes a bit and wondering to herself how she must look. “I miss him so much.”
“I know how you must feel,” Simon said sympathetically. “I’m feeling quite lost without Fiona.”
“Is she English, as well?” Angela asked, recognizing his unmistakable British accent.
“Oh, no, she was born here; she’s very American,” he answered. “You haven’t met her, then?”
“No, he mentioned a few times that he’d bring her over to visit but I guess, you know how it is, always something comes up,” she said. Expecting him to explain the purpose of his visit, she wondered if she should be offering him some tea or something.
“To be quite honest, I’ve been worried sick about Fiona, to the point where I can hardly sleep at night,” Simon said in a sad voice. “I’ve explored every avenue,” he said, as if he had finished his sentence.
“Yes,” said Angela, as if she totally understood. “I can only hope that they are all right, wherever they find themselves.”
“So you haven’t heard from him, then?” Simon asked pointedly. “You have no idea where they were headed?”
“I don’t,” Angela responded. “I talked to him just after they had left the city but all he told me was that they were very happy together. He said that he was the happiest he’s ever been.”
“The happiest he’s ever been?” Simon asked, feeling a tad nauseous. “He actually said that to you?”
“He was making sure that I didn’t worry, saying all kinds of things, I’m sure. Although, he actually did sound like he was happy. I know my boy and he wasn’t faking it,” Angela said, as if slowly remembering the emotional tone of the conversation. “I was going to make some coffee for myself, if you’d like some?” she then asked. “Or would you prefer tea?”
“Coffee sounds great, thank you,” Simon said, flashing her one of his charming smiles.
Simon followed her into the kitchen as she filled the coffee pot. Looking around for anything noteworthy, he checked out the photos posted on the fridge door. “Is Mr. Cox still with us?” he asked tactfully.
“He’s not with us, anymore, no,” Angela answered.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, bowing his head slightly.
“Oh, no, he’s still alive; he’s not just with us, anymore,” Angela clarified.
“Do they still keep in touch? Your son and his father?”
“Yes, of course,” Angela answered tetchily. “How do you like your coffee?”
“Black, please, one sugar,” Simon answered, smiling but concerned that he was getting nothing worthwhile with his questioning.
Professor Dowling wiped away his tears as he sat upon his bed and looked through old photographs and other memorabilia. It was because of such upset that he rarely opened the old tin cookie box stashed deep at the back of his clothes cabinet. It surprised him how much emotion he still felt after all the years. He should have known better than to think that he was over her, irrespective of the number of years since her disappearance. Time heals nothing, he reminded himself.
As his years of research had borne out, the mind is a tricky thing. One of its great faul
ts is how it can fool us into believing what we want to believe, even if that belief is one hundred percent incorrect.
In some ways, looking through the box of mementos gave his life a certain perspective. The past twenty years seemed to have sped by so fast that it was hard for him to believe that he was now in his sixties. In most circles he would be considered an “old man.” At what point, exactly did he become an old man, he wondered? When he turned sixty, perhaps?
He didn’t feel old. In fact, in his head he considered himself still quite young; probably felt and looked somewhere in his forties, he reckoned. In order not to dispel his own false belief, he studiously avoided looking at himself in the mirror. Most likely aging was the main reason he had kept a beard, he found it hard to admit.
What had he done with that twenty years? Why did he abandon his search for the wife he vowed to love till death do them part? Had he settled too willingly into an academic life of ease where he could hide away from the world and occupy himself in endless research? What kind of science was so important, anyway, that private industry needed help in selling more bubblegum? Or providing science to the military so that they could devise a more elaborate way to control, dominate, and kill?
Having spent over sixty years on planet earth, what had he got to show for his time and efforts?
Andrew showing up at his lab could not have been an accident. Yet, if he was to take some meaning from the kid's visit, he was stumped for an explanation. The odds of the kid showing up accidentally had to be small. The odds of Andrew mentioning the same obscure group that Abigail belonged to defied calculation, however. Yet, again, what was the meaning of that coincidence? Clearly the anima mundi, the World Soul, was instructing him in some way.
Yet what action was he being asked to take? Was he to resurrect his search? Was Abigail in some way reaching out to him from beyond the grave? Was she still alive and needing his help? Certainly all things were connected. Perhaps he was being asked to take a journey.