by T M Caruana
“I have to leave Susy. I have things I need to do and I don’t know if I’ll be back. I haven’t forgotten what I promised you. I’ll find a cure for you, but you also have to promise me one thing. You must never show the jewellery to anyone, you have to keep it a secret. Hide it well. One day, I will want it back, but right now it’s safest here with you. You are the only one I can trust,” he said in a low voice.
Vic swept his hand over my eyes so that I would close them and I realised it was to hide his own tears. With a voice choked by tears, he began to whisper the poem that he knew had comforted me so many times.
“Find Your dreams in the rainbow way,
Count two lights revealing a starry day,
The brave knights will see You through,
The kind of seven are waiting for You,
Within You lie memories deep,
They will shine when You are asleep,
When You gather what’s been apart,
Make sure You find the secret heart.”
Vic had finished the last line. We had an unwritten rule that no one would talk again and as always, I kept my eyes closed whilst Vic quietly left the room. He disappeared into a world behind locked doors that I didn’t have any knowledge of. I had never been allowed to leave the ward. My restrictions had been pointed out several times. ‘The research department isn’t a place for a little girl’ my father had hissed at me for as long as I could remember. He had said the same thing every time I had asked if I could go with him. He said it was because I was so sick and my memory loss could put me in great danger.
The few areas where I was allowed to be were all within the ward. It was my own, lonely, private and boring ward. There was a sitting room with a sofa and a TV, a clinically boring kitchen and a small gym that consisted of a treadmill, an exercise bike and a few weights. The staff served the meals four times a day, at exactly the same time each day. Just like the medication. The blood tests weren’t part of the daily routine, but were performed only once a month.
The monthly routine also included visits from my father. Sometimes my feelings for my father and uncle Ben felt unimportant, at least in comparison to my feelings for Vic. I was ashamed to feel that way, but I saw them only a few times a year. I felt hope they had a cure each time they stuck their heads around the doorway, but they only came to see if I was still alive. Their faces symbolised disappointment more than joy. They were both in their sixties and weren’t good at handling emotions. I guess my father had become more withdrawn after my mother died having me. He had had to deal with his grief as well as caring for such a sick child. It was strange to me that he never remarried and had more children, even though I had pointed out many times how nice it would have been to have siblings. At least I had Vic - well, until now.
I brought my hand under my shirt to feel the key that rested hidden against my chest and burst into the most painful sobs that I had ever experienced. Pulling my knees up to my stomach I grabbed hard onto the big down pillow. My chest ached from the violent sobs and my cheeks pounded with heat. I had to remind myself to breathe. ‘Why are you leaving me now?’ I whispered over and over again without finding an answer, but I understood that there was nothing more to be said. The expression on his face had been crystal clear. It was obvious that he would never return. He wouldn’t come tomorrow, or next week, or in a month’s time. What hurt the most and made my stomach contract like a shrivelled raisin was the thought of never seeing him again. With the abominable life I had lived, the rest of it without Vic’s presence was the beginning of the end.
2
ESCAPE WITH HIS LIFE
In Bath, England, Samuel glued a blank A4 page to either side of the old piece of paper. He pasted minimal amounts in the corners so as to prevent damaging the piece of the map that he possessed, then shut the lever-arch file and returned it to the bookshelf.
“There, now no one will be able to find it,” he confirmed to himself with a cheerful voice.
He finally had it in his possession after so many years of searching.
He slowly made his way into the kitchen and brewed a cup of tea. He opened the cupboard where he had a jar with some biscuits and took out two, smothered in chocolate. It was the neighbour who had baked them for him when she had come round earlier in the week. Since his wife had died in a car accident last year, Samuel hadn’t had much social contact with other people and appreciated her company more than her baking. He wanted to call her now when he was in such a good mood, but realised that he would never do it because of his feelings for his late wife. He still felt like an insecure cat playing with his first mouse when he tried to make contact and develop feelings for someone else. This was a deep-rooted feeling that would probably never go away. He had decided to spend the rest of his life in solitude; after all, it was his fault that she was dead. He should have been honest about who he was from the beginning. To be able to protect her, he should have been near her at all times, near enough to hear her every breath.
Samuel sat down on the sofa, sighed and looked over at the fabric of the cushion on the kitchen bench. Harriett had re-upholstered it just a year before she died. His heart felt heavy when he thought of her. He sat silently for a while and breathed in the vapours from his mint tea. He could hear the ticking of their old cuckoo clock, tick-tock, tick-tock. He gazed toward the curtains that she had also sewn. He couldn’t even admit to himself that he thought they were awful, out of respect for his late wife. The flowery fabric wasn’t to his taste. However, his job meant that he never stayed long in one place, so he didn’t feel like changing them. It was also nice to have them as a memory of her passion towards her hobbies.
A black BMW drove past outside and stopped at the driveway. The car’s size would provide sufficient space in the boot for a tied-up man of his size, he thought dismissively as he closed his eyes and hung his head in despair. He immediately understood the events that would follow and without waiting another second, he took the plate with the biscuits and the teacup and threw them in the rubbish bin without even pouring the tea into the sink. He ran quickly down the stairs to the basement and went to the trap door he had installed beneath the staircase when he had moved in five years ago. He pulled up the hidden pin that popped the door open from the wall, bent down, crawled into the small space and closed the door quickly behind him. The space was limited so he had to sit down with his knees pressed tightly against his forehead in complete darkness. He hoped that no spiders had moved in during the five years it had been empty. He didn’t like spiders. As expected, he heard the robbers break into the house. Calling the police wasn’t worthwhile. The thieves were only here for one reason and if they didn’t find the map, they would keep looking. Now he would have to move again which he wasn’t looking forward to. He had found the area appealing in its own way and he was starting to enjoy the newfound relationship with the neighbour. It was no use though; he hadn’t been able to make a normal life for himself. He was very clear about his duty. It was the most important duty he would ever have in the world and it didn’t come without its consequences. The treasure must be returned at any cost and so he understood how important it was that the map was safely hidden from the intruders. He didn’t want more people to suffer. When the time was right, everything would be returned to its origin.
They seemed to be ransacking the entire house, looking in every little nook and cranny. He could hear them smashing the china and throwing his books on the floor. Everything would be in a state. At least there wouldn’t be much left which needed to be packed for the move. He had been through this so many times that he no longer cared about material possessions, as long as they didn’t find the map. Was it hidden in a safe enough place? Samuel could hear male voices, but couldn’t make out exactly what was said. He pressed his ear closer to the door and closed his eyes to concentrate.
“Maybe it isn’t here. Old Samuel is very tricky. He would have had time to hide it since we were last on his tracks.”
The rough voice
came from a man who couldn’t be more than thirty. He sounded uneducated and Samuel thought he had a foreign accent, prompting him to conclude that the man must have followed him here.
“Don’t you think it’s strange that he isn’t home so late at night? Where would he have gone at this time?” commented the young voice, whilst Samuel heard what could only be his Chinese-style vase that sat on the shelf next to the washing machine, smash into a thousand pieces on the floor.
“I dunno, maybe he’s still here and is hiding. We’ll carry on looking.”
The other man seemed much older, about fifty Samuel guessed. It was clear that he was in charge.
Still slumped in his little hideaway, with his knees now under his chin, Samuel began to feel the torments of his worn body. His back had started to hurt and his indigo eyes still couldn’t see anything but darkness. When would they leave? How long would he have to sit here? He should have brought some biscuits, he thought ironically, as he wondered whether the supermarket still had a good price on moving boxes. He had seen them last week and now he would need moving boxes again.
Suddenly Samuel’s heart started to pound faster and the adrenaline pumped into his fingertips as footsteps were heard just outside the secret door. He held his breath. ‘Don’t let them find me; don’t let them find me,’ was the only thing that repeatedly went through Samuel’s head.
He closed his eyes and thought that when they had gone, he would summon the Order. Now they needed to forge new plans on how they would handle their opponents, who had begun to come nearer to them. He also wanted to give the others the good news that he had held onto the map. That is, if he still had it in his possession after this evening. These opponents had, throughout the years, gathered more knowledge of the Order’s powers, as they had been able to study the other part of the map that they possessed. For this reason it was important to keep abreast of what they could expect from their adversaries if the group were to come out victorious in the battle.
It had been seven years since the Order had been summoned and it would only be the third time they had met since the world’s treasure had been stolen. The meetings were few whilst all seven members attempted to make every effort to retrieve the treasure and keep it safe. They worked in three groups of two and were responsible for reporting to the others if anything happened to their partner. The seventh member, the Chameleon, worked alone; no one had ever seen him. Michael was Samuel’s partner and they kept in touch, but not routinely. Sometimes they contacted each other by letter or e-mail and at other times via phone calls or meetings. At these meetings they got the chance to share information that they had gathered about the treasure’s location. Samuel’s mission had been the burden of finding and preserving the part of the map that he had now found. Secretly he had always hoped to pass the burden over to any of the other members in order to return to his life with Harriett, but it was too late now. His main duty now was to stay alive until the treasure was safely returned.
“No Tim, he ain’t here, there ain’t nothing here. I’ve looked through all the boxes and I can’t find the map. I say we leave, grab a bite to eat and then we come back and wait til he gets back. He’s got to come home sometime and when he does we’ll take him,” reasoned the older man.
“Okay Peter, I’m hungry, so it sounds like a good plan and I don’t want to be around you when you get low blood sugar. We can’t go back to the boss without the map and without having killed the old man,” murmured the young voice in a plaintive tone.
“Were we supposed to fix the old man?” commented Peter in surprise.
“Yes, the boss takes no risks, so read our order,” replied Tim more enthusiastically.
“Okay, I understand. But I am not cleaning up after you if it becomes a messy slaughter.”
“Wait…”
One of them whispered hurriedly and Samuel couldn’t distinguish which man had spoken. Samuel closed his eyes and used his weakened power to see them both in his thoughts. It had been the old man whispering, now followed by a gesture with his index finger over his mouth as a sharp request for silence. Samuel opened his eyes to stop all his energies from being sucked out of him and waited with a frightened feeling of discomfort. There was silence for several minutes and Samuel couldn’t hear any footsteps or sounds from the men. They must have conjured a new idea, or possibly they had spotted the secret door.
Samuel witnessed a sudden jerk that opened the door to the secret space, which made Peter’s thin blonde hair float upwards with the draft. A revolver was pointed at what Peter would believe to be empty room, though he probably could determine that someone had been there recently since there were tracks in the dust on the floor. He turned around, but didn’t get the chance to warn Tim as Samuel bashed a hard hit on the back of his head, which threw him to the floor. Peter had underestimated his opponent when he assumed that Samuel had no strength left after so many years. Peter was a big man, but would still not have stood a chance against Samuel even if he couldn’t have made himself invisible. Samuel was a slender middle-aged man who had spent the last ten years learning Taido. Coupled with his power of invisibility, it was a highly dangerous combination to attempt to overcome. Peter’s choices would be to flee or play dead. His choices were reduced however when Samuel knocked him unconscious on the old wooden floor. Meanwhile, Tim approached Samuel in a squatting position and menacingly whispered.
“Eleanor,” he threatened, as he made a nodding gesture towards his revolver, “will puncture your two lungs and dig out the contents of your brain if you move a muscle. Nice and easy now, tell me where you’ve hidden the map and no one should get hurt.”
His voice was sharp and Samuel believed him. He knew that he had to think quickly to escape with his life.
3
LUST FOR ADVENTURE
Vic leaned all his weight against the closed door and could hear Susy’s despairing cry as a result of his betrayal. Normally, when he comforted her, he always managed to stay calm, but this time it was different. He felt weak and had to sit down at one of the office desks. His fingers pounded nervously, one after the other, on the desk and he felt overcome by guilt at having to abandon her. If it was up to him, he could have spent the rest of his life within a metre of Susy; they were an unbeatable team. What had begun with merely trying to relieve her pain had grown into something much stronger. Twenty-five years he had spent with her locked up in the institution. He had witnessed her personality change and become less naive over the years, although her innocent nature was still apparent at times. Vic didn’t want to leave, but the time for his deceitful departure had been decided. He had to ensure that life proceeded according to plan.
Hunched down on the black office chair with his head in his hands, he waited for Susy’s weeping to stop. He wanted to leave, knowing that she would feel content enough without him. He knew it was unlikely and that he was important to her. But where he was going, she could not follow. If future plans went his way, they would hopefully see each other again. Her last twenty-five years had been only for him. Moments they had spent together had been an epoch, hidden from the world, as if frozen in time. Now that had all ended and they had to continue their lives in different directions.
His cowardly and undignified farewell would haunt him. He deserved it, even though he had done his best. It was an impossible thought to have to endure, seeing the pain and suffering in her innocent eyes. However, he had to decide and keep his course. After having wandered up and down the office, conjuring images of Susy’s suffering in his thoughts, he stroked his fingertips over the door that led into the ward, closed his eyes, took a deep breath and rushed through the door that led out to the engine room. He must get as far away as he could from this world that he was about to leave behind.
<><><>
I had been lying awake for two hours staring at the full moon, calm but still suffering, without being able to fall asleep. Normally I don’t sleep for long, but this night it seemed exceptionally impossible to even ge
t one hour. I felt a creeping feeling in my gut and emotions of freedom couldn’t be kept out of my thoughts. How would it feel to experience the world as I’ve seen it on TV? If I left the ward, would the pain increase without my drugs? Would it be worth it to experience a short time outside the hospital as opposed to an eternity in my bed? Without Vic, life was ‘Game Over’ since the years would continue with the same routine, but without him.
“U-235,” the code escaped my lips.
It was the code to the door that led to the research department. Vic had keyed it in a hurry once, without noticing that I was looking over his shoulder. U-235, it definitely was. I wondered if there was anyone in the department now. If anyone noticed me, my father would be in big trouble. He would be very disappointed with my actions. But I had to get a little adventure in my life, now when all other hope was lost. I couldn’t imagine anything worse than the situation that was confronting me.
I gently sat up, threw my feet off the bed and wiggled my small toes. My tiny feet were the reason I almost never wore shoes. They were hard to find in my size, other than with childish motifs. Or that was my father’s excuse anyway. Not that I complained. The worn Mickey Mouse slippers that I got for Christmas five years ago still fitted. What amazed me at this point was that considering my normal memory loss, I could actually remember when the slippers were given to me.
My heart raced and dizziness clouded my sight. Was I nervous? Or was it my illness? Would the aching strain start in my muscles, the screaming in my ears and the stinging in my eyes, which were always most evident in the evenings? I hesitated a few seconds. No. The uncomfortable burning sensation in my chest was probably just nerves. I felt like a master criminal before I had even put my feet on the floor. The sun-bleached wallpaper caught my eye and I remembered again how I had watched it fade. This reinforced my decision and dispelled my doubts. Tonight, I was going to follow my heart, my mind had had its way for too many years.