by Robin King
All of a sudden Casey burst out laughing, falling on her bed in a fit of giggles.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
In between her snickers, she managed to say, “You guys really should be together!” I looked at her questioningly until she finished, “Because that’s exactly what he said.”
I drove most of the way to Blackstone Park and parked my car near the sidewalk. Though my leg was still bandaged tightly and on its way to healing, it ached when I tried to go long distances. The icy sidewalks wouldn’t help. I held my arms over my stomach, trying to hold in the butterflies as I walked to the “finish line.” My phone’s time showed 8:58 am, giving me only a few minutes to calm my nerves before William arrived.
Memories of my first mission played in my head while I waited, distracting me from myself. I almost laughed when I realized I was almost more terrified about seeing William than I had been in the burning warehouse or hanging from the ledge, or having the gun barrel pointed in my direction. There really must be something wrong with me.
Someone cleared his throat. I looked up to see William standing near the opening that led to my large rock. He had beat me there. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of a brown wool pea coat, though I could still make out his signature vest underneath.
“You made it.” His voice sounded strained. “I thought maybe you didn’t understand my message or you hadn’t read Othello.” He kicked at the skiff of snow on the ground. “Or maybe you didn’t want to come.”
“Of course I came.” I took a few steps in his direction. “And I liked your secret code.” His expression softened, and his eyes moved toward the grove of trees. “I have something for you,” he said. I followed him into the cluster of trees surrounding my rock. He picked up a single flower tied with a white ribbon and handed it to me. I instantly recognized the purple petals. Bittersweet nightshade. How did he know?
“I thought you might like it because of your ring.” He motioned to my hand. “I hope I got the right flower. The girl at the store thought I was crazy.”
“It . . . it’s perfect.” I smiled and sat on the rock, setting the flower down on one side of me while William took a seat on the other. I thought of my mom. The words from her letter scrolled through my mind. Secrets and truth.
I hugged my knees and watched as a snowflake blew down from the trees and landed on my sleeve. The pattern was unique and intricate. William already knew almost everything about me. Almost. Could I have a relationship with someone and not share that part of me? I trusted him with the knowledge of my eidetic memory and knew I could trust him with this other side to my life, but did I want to give him that burden?
I flashed to the memory of Tanner sobbing on his pillow and finally made the connection. The weight of my mother’s secret, a secret he couldn’t even share with me. I scanned through memories of my life in Washington with my family. I watched as we rolled out the dough on Pizza Fridays, Tanner and Mom adding just Canadian bacon and pineapple while Dad and I piled on everything from pepperoni and sausage to olives and mushrooms. I felt the cool waves crash against my back as they chased us back to the beach on our summer vacation to Lincoln City. I smelled the sage and lavender from our flower beds while we pulled weeds together on Saturday mornings, enjoying yard work only because we did it together. I brought my hand to my mouth to stifle a laugh as we played “Stump Dad Night,” trying unsuccessfully to ask him history questions he couldn’t answer. Each home movie brought a smile to my face. I would always cherish those memories.
That’s when I realized things might have been different if I had known about my mom’s work for the CIA and then for The Company. The carefree nature of our life together would’ve been tarnished by worry and fear from the dangers of her real job. My mom had been right in her decision. And I couldn’t do that to William, either.
“You’re no longer here, are you?” His voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked over to see him brandishing his familiar crooked grin. The memories faded so it was just the two of us and nothing else.
“How do you do that?” I let go of my knees and shifted toward him on the rock.
William raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”
“Make me forget about everything.”
He laughed. “Is that is a good thing?”
“It is when you’re me.” I let my legs dangle from the rock and stared out at the snow slowly falling from the sky and onto the tree branches surrounding us.
“Alex?”
“Yeah?”
“I have something I have to tell you.”
“Okay.” A nervous twinge hit my stomach.
“I’m not sure how to say this.” He turned his body to face me, and I watched him chew the inside of his cheek. “I can’t . . . I can’t be your professor anymore.”
“What? Why?” My shoulders fell as I turned my head from him. I had loved being in his class, and our tutoring sessions together were some of my best memories at Brown.
“Because it’s just not working for me.”
Had I read William all wrong? I thought he had enjoyed being with me too. I held my breath and didn’t move. He must be trying to let me down easy. He thinks it will be easier to just not see me anymore. The flower must have been his way of lessening the blow. Just stay calm, Alex.
I felt the warmth of his hand on my chin as he turned my face back toward him. There was an intensity in his blue eyes I had never seen before. “I can’t be a professor to someone that . . .” He let his fingers fall from my face and reached for both of my hands, pulling them to his chest and holding them there gently. “. . . Someone I’m falling for.”
“What?” I stared, my mouth slightly open in bewilderment.
William squeezed my hands tighter. “Alex, don’t you see? You’re smart and beautiful, but you let the people around you feel like they are even more. I love that you seem to always have some secret behind your eyes.” He brought my hands to his lips and kissed them. “My stomach does somersaults every time I’m around you. I feel like a character in one of my classic romance novels. If I could sing, I’d probably burst into song right now.” His musical laugh echoed through the trees, and I looked up for just a moment as a few snowflakes hit my face and immediately melted away, leaving cool spots on my skin.
Everything he said, I felt in my heart and wanted to repeat back to him, but nothing came to my lips. I’d been holding back for so long, trying to suppress feelings I’d always known were there. Can I really do this? Is it possible for me to have both lives?
I focused on William’s face again. He looked at me expectantly, waiting for a response. I stood there, frozen. Memories of our time together flashed through my mind. Standing next to him in front of the Caesar Augustus statue with the hot-pink arm. The fountain by Rochambeau House when I thought we could only be friends. His warm hands on my knee as he diagnosed my injury. The flush to my skin as he touched my lips with his finger by his bedroom window. Sitting in front of the oak tree with his hand in mine.
A static buzz filled my ear. “Oh, what are you waiting for?” a voice said in my ear. James? My hand immediately touched the specially made earrings I’d forgotten to remove. James’s voice rang straight to my eardrum. “Just kiss the fool!” For the first time since I met James, I decided to listen to him.
I leaned forward to press my lips against William’s. Apparently he had the same thought, because we met right in the middle. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to him. The butterflies in my stomach went wild, but I didn’t pull away. Instead, I fell into him and forgot everything.
"Remembrandt" Song Lyrics
A photograph holds a thousand words, a memory even more.
A catalog of all events waiting in a drawer.
They play within my mind—who, what, and where.
I don’t walk down memory lane, I live there.
Like a Rembrandt painting, will the edges of the memory begin to fade?
And I wonder, how long before
I’ve lost the ones I’ve made?
Etched within my mind are things I can’t let go.
But I know some things are better left forgotten.
The eyes—they see the experiences I face.
Memories of the past haunt me in my place.
Remembrance of the pain and grief flood my tattered mind.
Where is the hope I long to find?
Like a Rembrandt painting, will the edges of the memory begin to fade?
And I wonder, how long before I’ve lost the ones I’ve made?
Etched within my mind are things I can’t let go.
But I know some things are better left forgotten.
Balancing two different lives, one simple and secure.
Safe used to be ideal, but now I’m not so sure.
My other life is dangerous, with secrets, risks, and thrill.
The adventure calms the memories, makes my mind go still.
This is the life I chose, I can’t run away.
He’s the only reason I want to stay.
Like a Rembrandt painting, will the edges of the memory begin to fade?
And I wonder, how long before I lose the good ones that I made?
Etched within my mind are things I won’t let go.
And I know some things are best if not forgotten.
Yes I know some things are best if not forgotten.
Discussion Questions
Having an eidetic memory—replaying scenes in your head, recalling text, recognizing faces—seems like a gift everyone would want to have. Does Alex want it? If you could have a memory like hers, would you? What would be the advantages? Disadvantages?
Vernon Sanders Law, a former major league baseball pitcher, once said, “Experience is a hard teacher because she gives the test first, the lesson afterward.” What tests are given to Alex? What lessons does she learn?
After Alex solves the cupboard puzzle, she asks what the Latin phrases mean. Golkov obviously knows but doesn’t tell her. Alex says that “the good [teachers] never gave all the answers.” Why would that be true? Have you ever had a teacher that didn’t give you all the answers? How did that help or hinder your learning?
When Alex finds the plane ticket, she only questions using it for a second before deciding to travel to a foreign country. Why is she so trusting of Golkov and this puzzle? Have you ever jumped into something without knowing all the details? Why? Could some of the consequences of Alex’s trip to St. Petersburg have been prevented if she had just called Golkov and asked a few questions?
Pulling pranks, running, and going on missions helps Alex subdue the memories that often plague her mind. Why would those activities help her? What do you use as an outlet to release stress or distract yourself? Do you think people should be punished for pulling harmless pranks (like Alex adding the hot-pink arm to the Caesar Augustus statue)?
The opera that Alex attends at the Mariinsky Theater is Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro). Many operas are sung in a language other than the one the audience speaks. How is it that someone watching an opera in a foreign language could understand it? How is attending an opera at a historic theater different than watching a recording at home?
Alex quotes F. Scott Fitzgerald to William: “He smiled understandingly—much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced— or seemed to face—the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself.” What do you think Alex meant by that? Why would she say it to William? Have you ever met anyone that made you feel that way?
Should age difference be a determining factor in a relationship? Alex describes her relationship with Golkov as a friendship. Is it possible to be close friends with someone that is decades older or younger than you? Consider the romantic relationship between William and Alex. Is a five-year gap too big? What if Alex were five years older than William, instead of the other way around?
Alex tells William her childhood memory of the iodine clock experiment. How is this experiment similar to their relationship? What was Alex really trying to say to William when she told him about the experiment?
Elijah shares “The Secret Sits,” a poem written by Robert Frost in 1942. It reads, “We dance around in a ring and suppose. But the Secret sits in the middle and knows.” What did Elijah mean by sharing this poem with Alex? What do you think Robert Frost meant? How could this poem be compared to Alex’s memories of her brother and the secret he kept from her?
Two of William Shakespeare’s plays, Much Ado About Nothing and Troilus and Cressida, are mentioned by Elijah. Later, William explains to Alex the meaning of an excerpt from each play. Imagery from Shakespeare’s plays is often discussed at length as readers attempt to decipher the underlying meaning of scenes and characters. Do you think the Bard used his imagery to share a message, or do we try to pull out meaning where the author had no intent? What about in Remembrandt? Do you think King had any themes or lessons in mind as she wrote the story?
Daly and Alex have a complicated and sometimes confusing relationship. Why is that? Is it possible for a young man and woman to have a close relationship without being romantically involved? What makes it possible or not possible?
During one of Alex’s flashbacks, she wants to skip or fast-forward through a scene from her memory, but she’s not the “director of [her] memories.” If you could rewrite a scene from your life, would you? Alex admits during one of her flashbacks that “the memory and feelings remained the same, yet looking at it with more mature eyes changed it somehow. It was like watching a movie ten years later and having a different response.” Are some of your memories like that?
French poet Andrè Bertha said, “We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin.” Why does Daly share this bit of wisdom he received from Sensei Itosu? How is this true for Alex? Do we all wear masks?
Near the end of the book, Alex debates whether or not to share her secret with William. She reasons with herself that her life would have been very different if she had known her mother’s secret. Is she being fair to William by not sharing her secret? Are there some secrets that should be kept from those you love? If you were a member of a spy organization, would you keep it a secret?
About the Author
Robin M. King received her bachelor’s degree in education from Brigham Young University and has been instructing children and young adults for over ten years. When she’s not writing or helping her students remember the quadratic formula, she leads a clandestine life as a wife and a mother of five. Don’t tell anyone, but Robin’s also a marathoner, photographer, singer, seamstress, baker, and household-appliance repairman. You can find her online at www.byrobinking.com and on social media @ robinyourheart.
Praise for Remembrandt
Title
Copyright
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1: Newton’s Law
Chapter 2: Roman Hot Pink
Chapter 3: What Is Truth?
Chapter 4: St. Petersburg
Chapter 5: In the Tsar’s Seat
Chapter 6: Elijah
Chapter 7: Answers
Chapter 8: The Company
Chapter 9: Training
Chapter 10: El Profesor
Chapter 11: Admission
Chapter 12: Dr. William
Chapter 13: Fight or Flight
Chapter 14: Scenes in My Head
Chapter 15: Spanish Inquisition
Chapter 16: Much Ado about Nothing
Chapter 17: The Accident
Chapter 18: Red Eye
Chapter 19: Better Left Forgotten
Chapter 20: Moscow
Chapter 21: Change of Plans
Chapter 22
: Where There’s Smoke
Chapter 23: Truth at the Eye of the Storm
Chapter 24: Home
"Remembrandt" Song Lyrics
Discussion Questions
About the Author