William's Blood

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William's Blood Page 11

by S S Bazinet


  “That’s not totally accurate. It’s important that we fit in too. Otherwise, depending on the circumstance, we wouldn’t be able to do our jobs effectively. For instance, in Annabel’s case—”

  “Annabel?” Arel knew a girl by that name. “Are you talking about the Annabel I met when I went to New York?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s an angel?”

  “That’s right. I thought you needed extra support on that trip so I asked her to tag along.”

  “I thought she was some homeless waif. Wow, she was believable.”

  “She’s the angel who’s helping William now.”

  Arel quickly went from slouching to sitting upright. “Michael! What are you thinking? That poor thing! William will have her for breakfast!”

  “Actually, she isn’t using the waif persona now. She’s quite capable of holding her own.”

  “You don’t know William like I do. I’d advise her to wear one of those metal mesh shark suits that divers put on when swimming in dangerous waters.”

  “Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine.”

  Twenty

  ANNABEL’S FIRST DAY on the job was uneventful. There didn’t seem like much to do. William’s home was clean and tidy. When she told him that he didn’t need her services, he appeared to remain calm, but she noted a slight degree of panic in his eyes. There was a long pause before he finally informed her that his book shelves needed organizing. After a few days, she knew it was taking some effort on his part to provide tasks for her to perform. A closet that was orderly on one day, would be in chaos a couple of days later. Newly washed clothes ended up in the clothes hamper.

  Annabel’s main concern was communication. William remained aloof most of the time, rarely engaging her in conversation. It wasn’t that he closeted himself away. As she went about her chores, he was often reading in a central location where he could observe her coming and going, but that was the extent of their association. The situation finally changed on laundry day, when Annabel plopped a basket of clean clothes down on the sofa. She had barely begun to fold William’s socks when he looked up from a chair in the corner. Supposedly he was reading a book, but that didn’t stop him from making a comment.

  “You’re doing it all wrong,” he said in a crisp tone, trying to avoid looking at her.

  Annabel stared back. Maybe she was missing something in the art of sock folding. “What do you mean? It’s simple. You take matching socks and put them together.”

  William shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Not if you want to do it properly.”

  Annabel smiled to herself. Carey had discussed Arel’s obsession with vacuuming and carpet care. Now William sounded just as picky about his socks. She laughed. “Why make a fuss?”

  William put his book down and stood up. Without another word, he approached the sofa, picked up two socks and demonstrated what was needed. He carefully folded the socks in thirds like a tri-fold billfold.

  Annabel knew this was a crucial moment. She had to react the right way, the way a strong, modern woman would react. She grabbed a t-shirt and folded it in half. “Fine, I’ll do these.”

  William’s brows shot up as he watched her. “Not like that, dearie!” He took the shirt out of her hands. Again, he seemed to have a very exacting way of making sure the piece of clothing resembled something sitting on a shelf in a department store.

  Annabel felt the challenge and tried to duplicate his precise folding process. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as it looked. When she was finished, her shirt didn’t look anything like William’s.

  William reacted with annoyance. “For goodness sake, woman, you’re quite daft, aren’t you?”

  Annabel had never been verbally criticized before, and she didn’t take William’s words personally. However, something told her that she couldn’t let his remark go. She knew disrespect when she heard it. She immediately moved away from the clothes basket and made an announcement of her own. “I’m sorry, William, but I don’t think this job is working out.”

  William stepped forward with surprise. “I can’t help it if you have no sense of how to do things properly. You should be happy that someone is teaching you how to adequately function in your job.”

  Annabel relied on her angelic instincts and started towards the coat closet. “It’s been very interesting working here. I wish you the best.”

  “What do you mean? You’re leaving?”

  “As you just said, I’m not doing my job very well.”

  William crossed his arms, following her with his eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, but do as you please.”

  Annabel slipped on her coat and gave him a final nod as she walked to the door.

  “Annabel, before you go, tell me where to send your wages. I don’t have your address.”

  “Never mind, I haven’t done very much. I wouldn’t want to take your money under the pretense that I’m adequate.”

  William’s face flushed with frustration. “Maybe you’re not cut out for folding socks.” He quickly walked over to where she was standing. “I could use a lab assistant, but you’d have to be willing to learn proper procedures.”

  Annabel zipped up her jacket. “What would I do?”

  “I’m thinking about some experiments with plants. I’d like to know how they’re affected by certain phenomenon.”

  Annabel smiled, genuinely interested. “I love plants.”

  “That’s not the point. I’m doing a scientific study. You’d need to take care of things in a very specific way.”

  “I can follow instructions if it’s for a reason that seems plausible.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Annabel nodded. “Of course.”

  William’s pale, blue eyes lit up for a brief instant. “Good, we’ll start the experiment once I plan it out and buy the supplies we’ll need.”

  Twenty-One

  CAROL SAT AT a small, cozy table in a quaint café. It was exactly the kind of little bistro that she’d always dreamed about. With walnut walls and a friendly staff, it bordered a picturesque cobblestone street and was within walking distance of the Eiffel Tower. “It’s so perfect,” she said, turning her attention to Kevin.

  He looked up from the menu he was studying. Dressed in a tan, cable knit sweater, he looked particularly attractive when he flashed his eyes in her direction. “It is perfect. They have some fantastic items to choose from. I especially like the look of the beef tenderloin.”

  She laughed. “I meant the restaurant itself. Isn’t it a slice of heaven?”

  Kevin hastily took a look around. “Yeah, it sure is. The smells coming out of the kitchen have me practically drooling.”

  She reached out and took his hand. “Thank you, honey, for everything. I’m having the time of my life.”

  Kevin put the menu aside. “Are you really happy, Carol? Because that’s what I want.” He paused. “I want to be the person you want me to be. You have to believe that.”

  She knew Kevin was starving after a long afternoon of checking out the sights, but in that moment, he put it all aside. He’d never sounded or looked more sincere as he stared back at her.

  She squeezed his hand. “I believe you, and I love you so much. That’s why I get so upset. I want to always feel like we feel right now. I don’t want that to go away. I don’t want you to go away.”

  Kevin slipped his hand free of hers, only to take it into both of his. He held it firmly. “I’m not going anywhere. Even when you think I’ve shut you out, the real me is there, underneath all the crap. I just haven’t figured out how to keep that part of myself from blanking out, but I’m working on it.”

  In that moment, she knew clearly, maybe for the first time, the situation wasn’t all Kevin’s fault. He was sitting across from her, as present as he could possibly be, and yet, she couldn’t really feel him the way she wanted to feel him. Maybe, he didn’t always blank out. Maybe, she sometimes shut him out.

  Kevin tugged on her hand. “What i
s it? You look sad.”

  “I’m okay. I’m just trying to stop being so afraid of the future.” She smiled and grabbed her menu with her free hand. “But let’s forget about all of it for now. I’m hungry.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She sighed. “I think I need some food, that’s all.”

  Kevin’s smile broadened into a grin. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”

  Twenty-Two

  CAROL STOOD ON the private balcony of her hotel room, staring out at the Arc de Triomphe. The majestic monument was commissioned by Napoleon after one of his victorious battles. Its size was staggering, so big that a World War One pilot once flew his biplane through the arch. Its magnificence sent a small thrill through Carol’s body as she let it etch itself into her memory. She was leaving that day, and she didn’t want to forget any part of her trip.

  “I can’t believe that we’re already going home. This week went by so quickly,” she said as she closed the balcony doors and turned to Kevin.

  He was gathering up an armful of his clothes from the closet. “It’s been great, but I know you miss Ariel and Chicago just as much as I do.”

  “I do miss our baby, terribly, but—” She grabbed a tissue in case she got weepy. Tears were becoming a regular occurrence, one that she hated but couldn’t stop.

  Kevin threw his clothes on the bed and came over.

  “What’s going on? Aren’t you excited about going home?”

  “I guess I’m scared that when we get back we’ll be our old selves.” She stared up at him, searching his eyes for the wonderful spark of connection they’d established. Paris had been a perfect place to rediscover how much they loved each other. “It happens a lot after a vacation. People get busy with their lives and routines again, and you know—”

  “I guess habits are hard to break.”

  She watched his eyes lose the spark that had been there a moment before. “Kevin, am I already losing you?”

  “No, I was just thinking about what you said. I wondered when I started tuning the important stuff out. Maybe it was in college when I played football. It was great until I got some injuries and was off the team. Then I had to watch games instead of being a part of the action.”

  “That must have been hard. From what Peggy said you were really a good player.”

  “Yeah, it was tough, but what can you do?”

  She sat down on the bed. Staring at the tissue in her hand, she knew it was time to do some soul searching too. “I guess I sort of retreated from some parts of life. Living alone seemed best after my running away disaster as a teenager and a short marital fiasco.”

  Kevin nodded. “I dated a few women. It never amounted to much, except for some painful times when the gal I was dating pointed out my shortcomings.”

  “I didn’t date. I didn’t think I wanted or needed any more relationships. I was happy enough until—”

  “Until we met,” he said in a playful tone.

  She giggled. “Actually, I met Arel first, online, remember? He was so nice. I had a crush on him.”

  Kevin smiled as he sat down next to her and took her hand. “Then we got together, and Arel was toast.”

  She blushed. “Yes, I think I fell in love with you as soon as I saw you.”

  “Now I’ve made you feel like the other women I went out with. You see me as a guy with a ton of faults.”

  “No, don’t say that. It makes me feel terrible.”

  He hesitated. “Hey, I just had another thought. People revert to old habits. Maybe, that’s what happened to us. As you settled into the daily routine of life, you began to think you’d be safer if you were on your own again. As for me, I’m repeating my past too, feeling like I’m a failure around you.”

  Carol thought about her worries and how she’d handled them when she lived alone. “Goodness, you might be right. I guess I did feel more in control before we met. But I don’t want it to be that way. I want to be with you.”

  “And you’re everything to me, Carol.”

  “So what do we do?”

  Kevin pulled her close. “Let’s keep trying. Let’s promise each other that we’ll stick it out.”

  She wanted to take him up on the promise, but what did promises really mean? She’d already pledged to stay with him “til death we do part.” That promise went out the window when her fears took hold. That was the problem. Her fear had a way of blotting out everything else. “I’ll do my best.”

  Kevin pulled back and stared at her. “Don’t you believe in us?”

  “I don’t know if I even believe in me. Here I am, a wife and a mother, but sometimes I don’t feel very grown up at all.”

  Twenty-Three

  TIM WALKED QUICKLY across his yard and onto Arel’s property. It was early Saturday morning, and Peggy was in bed, still sleeping. Tim hoped she wouldn’t miss him, that he could get back before she woke up. He didn’t want to tell her about his nightmare. He had someone else in mind as he pounded on Arel’s door. “Open up, Arel, please.”

  As he stood back, waiting, he noticed that his fist was shaky. In fact, his whole body felt strange.

  It has something to do with that nightmare I had.

  He’d tried to deal with the terrifying dream on his own, but the vivid images wouldn’t go away. He knew they were connected to Arel. The nightmares started shortly after Arel had healed the gash on his head.

  He rang the bell a couple of more times.

  What’s going on with me?

  Tim knew he rarely let his emotions take over. He was the steady one in the group. Arel could faint over a couple drops of blood. Kevin could get angry and try to fight his way out of a problem. Through it all, Tim had to remain calm. Yet, as he waited at the door, he didn’t feel like himself. He felt like the guy in the dream, the person who was fighting and screaming in the midst of a mob.

  He reached for the bell again as the door opened. Michael stared out at him with questioning eyes.

  “Tim, is there—”

  Michael wasn’t allowed to finish his sentence.

  “Who is it, Michael?” Arel asked sleepily as he pushed the taller man aside. As soon as he locked on to Tim’s face, his eyes widened in panic. “Is it the baby? Is Peggy okay?”

  Seeing Arel panic so quickly, Tim knew he’d made a mistake coming over. “They’re fine.”

  Arel continued to stare at him. “Something’s wrong. You look as white as a sheet.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Michael asked from his delegated spot behind Arel.

  “It’s stupid, but I had this dream—”

  “A dream? That’s all?” Arel’s face sagged with relief. “I’m almost an expert on the damn things. Come in.”

  Tim proceeded into the foyer. As he tried to steady his nerves, he noticed that Arel had turned to Michael. He was making little shooing gestures in Michael’s direction.

  “I got this, Michael,” Arel said. “No need to get involved.”

  Michael shrugged. “If you—”

  “We’re fine,” Arel insisted. His tone was tinged with the slightest bit of annoyance.

  As Michael retreated, Tim called out an apology. “Sorry for the disturbance.”

  Arel offered Tim a reassuring smile and directed him into the living room. “Michael doesn’t understand these things like I do. As I said before, dreams are my specialty.”

  “Glad to hear somebody’s got a handle on the damn things,” Tim said. With Arel looking so confidant and serene, he was starting to feel a little better.

  When they were seated, Arel settled back, continuing to display a poised manner in spite of his appearance. His hair was uncombed, with dark, unruly locks hanging over his brow. His beard, normally well groomed, was dark and in need of tending. It gave him the slightly haunted look of a silent film star.

  “Again, I’m sorry to disturb you like this,” Tim began.

  Arel smiled. “Just tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “We both kno
w that Peggy is a great one for having some bad dreams, but mine always fade when I wake up. That’s changed.” Tim looked up and took a much needed breath. “The night after my accident, I started having nightmares that I couldn’t shake. Maybe I bounced my head on the dresser harder than I thought.” He clasped his hands in silence.

  “Go on.”

  “I’m grateful for what you did, but I think you might have something to do with what’s happening. In fact, I think you were one of the people in the nightmare.”

  “Really?”

  “Remember when we all first met and Peggy had that horrible dream about the two of you?”

  Arel shifted slightly and crossed his arms. “The one about being burned at the stake?”

  “Yes, that’s the one. Now I’m having it. Only in my version, I feel like I’m there too.”

  Arel looked away without commenting. Instead, he sat back again, and made little circles on the arm of the sofa with his index finger.

  “What should I do? Any suggestions? You said something about being a dream expert.”

  “Let it go,” Arel replied softly. “You don’t realize it, but you’re giving the dream too much power.”

  Tim hunched his shoulders. “I’m not trying to give it anything. But I wake up shaking and quaking.”

  “Even if your dream was a recall of a past life that we all shared—”

  “Is that what you think it is? Are you serious?”

  Arel glanced over at Tim and quickly looked away. His voice had an edgy quality when he spoke. “Tim, listen to me. Don’t let yourself get caught up in something that has no relevance in your life.”

  “I agree. I’ve tried to tell myself it was just a nightmare, but it won’t go away. Besides, if there was any truth to what I’ve dreamed, it was a hell of a life, one that must have been important.”

  Arel stood up. “I was wrong about what I said. I was foolish telling you that I’m a dream expert. Just try to forget the nightmare.”

  “What if I can’t?” Tim stood up too, glaring back. “I’ve been there for you, remember New York? I don’t understand why you have this attitude. I just need a little help with this fear that’s eating at me.”

 

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