Miles

by Melissa R. L. Simonin

  “How much?” I asked.

  Rich was reasonable, but reasonable wasn’t cheap. I cringed to think of the huge hole I just made in my college fund. It sickened me even more to imagine waiting for the auction, and possibly lose my only chance to acquire these pieces. The thought was intolerable.

  I paid the man, then he packed and loaded Sarah’s things in the back of the SUV for me. Service with a smile.

  On the way home I didn’t feel like smiling, though. I felt more depressed than enthusiastic. My heart was so heavy, I was surprised the car would move at all. This was going to be hard. Very hard.

  I pulled into the Bannerman garage, which was huge. And of course, it was on the ground floor. Did Polly really think I’d look for it upstairs?

  I rested my forehead against the steering wheel, dreading what was to come.

  Miles waited for me to open the vehicle door and climb out, then carried the hatbox and satchel as we walked through the garage and into the house.

  We sat together on the floor of the parlor, and stared silently at the two pieces.

  My heart filled with dread, I pulled the satchel forward and began to examine it. I didn’t expect to find anything there, but it put off the inevitable. I was sure, on a gut level, that we’d find a letter somewhere in that hatbox.

  “Sometimes… I wish we wouldn’t find it,” said Miles, rubbing his forehead.

  “Yeah… me too. But when I think of you stuck in semi-transparent mode year after year after year, then I want to find it. I don’t want you stuck here forever. That’s no life. The thought... it’s unbearable. I care too much about you, to be that selfish.”

  Miles sighed.

  “I don’t want you to give up living, either, feeling like you need to stay here the rest of your life to keep me company. I care too much about you, to allow that.”

  My eyes burned with suppressed tears. Miles was silent for a moment, but he had more to say.

  “When I’m gone… I don’t want you to stay alone. But be really careful of the friends you do make, and for pity’s sake, promise me you won’t go out at night by yourself anymore!” He sighed again. “At least I know you’ve got a good family that loves you, and will take care of you…”

  “Cut it out, you’re making me cry,” I said, using my sleeve to wipe the excess moisture from my eyes. It felt good that he cared, but it hurt, too.

  I set the satchel aside.

  “Nothing there,” I said. I pulled the hatbox closer, and opened the hinged lid. “Guess we should see if there’s anything here.”

  We looked inside the trunk and removed the tray. I turned it over in my hands, looking for anything resembling a secret compartment. Placing the tray on the floor, I looked inside. The trunk was empty. It was also lined with a heavy fabric. I felt of the sides, and inside the trunk lid.

  “A letter could be hidden easily enough underneath the lining…” I said.

  “It would be a shame to damage the trunk though, unless we’re sure. This did belong to your great-great-great grandmother, after all.”

  I felt the bottom of the trunk. It was also lined, with a rolled fabric trim that ran all the way around the inside edge of the bottom of the trunk. I felt along the edges, but it fit snug.

  I sat and thought for a minute.

  “Hang on,” I said. “I need a measuring tape.”

  “I’ll get it,” said Miles, using his superpowers to place one in my hands.

  I measured the height of the trunk on the outside, then on the inside. The measurements didn’t add up. Which made sense, the bottom of the trunk would make the inside measurement shorter. But not that much shorter.

  “It’s here,” I said firmly. “It’s here. There’s a secret compartment here.”

  I tried to pry the bottom panel loose, then let Miles take over. Even for him it was difficult, the panel was really stuck.

  At last the false bottom of the trunk was out, and we were looking at two tin boxes that fit tightly together underneath it. Miles lifted them out and set them on the floor.

  “This is it. I know this is it,” I said. I felt sick.

  I picked up both boxes. One felt empty, but something rattled inside the other.

  I set both boxes down, and covered my face with my hands.

  I felt the faintest whisper of air on my shoulder as Miles rested his hand there.

  “Ug, this is unbearably hard,” I said. “So much harder than in the cave.”

  “I know… it is. Anika, just… take good care of yourself. Have a good life. Do good things, and…”

  “If you tell me to be good, I may wallop you one last time,” I said.

  Miles wouldn’t be joked out of his speech, though.

  “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You mean everything to me, and… I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to rest in peace… I’m going to miss you so much.”

  “You’re my best friend too,” I managed to say. “And I’m going to miss you.”

  Once he was gone, there would be no resting in peace for me, ever again.

  I picked up the metal box and carefully worked the lid to remove it.

  “Strange it didn’t rust,” I said.

  “Tin doesn’t rust,” said Miles.

  If only it was made of some other metal… then it would be out of our hands. We wouldn’t have this choice to make. I’d gladly live my whole life the way we were now… if it didn’t mean Miles would be alone again someday.

  The lid popped off, and inside was an envelope addressed to the Bannerman family.

  I picked up the letter, my hands shaking. I slit open the envelope carefully and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. For a moment, I hoped wildly that the ink had faded to nothing.

  It hadn’t. The ink was dark against the paper.

  I looked at Miles.

  “Just... go ahead and say it.”

  “What?”

  “You know what. Please, don’t go without telling me. I’ll feel worse, if I never hear you say it.”

  “It won’t make this harder for you… to move on?”

  “No,” I said, swallowing back tears.

  Miles paused.

  “I love you, Anika. With all my heart,” he said softly. I memorized the look in his eyes as he said it.

  “I love you too, Miles. I love you too. So much,” my voice cracked.

  “I don’t want to say goodbye,” he said.

  “Then we won’t,” I said, a tear falling on the page I held in my hand.

  “I do love you, Anika, more than anything, but don’t let that stop you from living. Please.”

  I nodded, my throat aching so that I couldn’t speak.

  “You won’t hurt me by living the best life you can… you won’t help me by spending the rest of your life grieving,” he said, almost pleadingly. “I’m not sure I did the right thing telling you I love you, even though I do. So much.”

  “Okay,” I managed to say, wanting to erase the worried look in his eyes. “I’ll try. I really will. Because I love you.”

  “Okay,” Miles nodded.

  “This whole thing just—I hate it. I don’t want you to have to go,” I said, wanting another option.

  “I’d stay if I could, Anika—in a heartbeat, I would,” Miles said. We both had tears in our eyes.

  “I love you,” I said one last time.

  “I love you too. Always,” said Miles.

  A long look later, I blotted my eyes on my sleeve and lifted the page.

  Miles and I silently read it together. He began to fade, and then he was gone.

  I huddled on the floor crying silent tears of agony until long after the sun went down, and the moon cast its ghostly light through the long narrow window and across the polished wood floor, and the letter in my hand. Cold and feeling more alone than I ever thought possible, I stood and left the room.

  Chapter 20

  Cynthia crept past the parlor on her way out of doors, when she heard her Mother speak softly. She stop
ped a moment to listen.

  “They were my sons too, and not a moment goes by that my heart does not feel torn to shreds. I wish we knew what happened as badly as you do. I wish we knew why Sarah lied as she did, and what the truth is.”

  Cynthia heard her mother stifle a sob, and her own throat swelled with grief.

  “But Del... you are destroying yourself. Your anger, though justified, is hurting you, and hurting us. Hurting the two children we have left.”

  Cynthia looked down at her hands. Mother was right. She never knew how badly one could suffer until her brothers were killed.

  And then, so many lies were told about them… and Father became angry, so angry, all of the time. James was young, when Miles and Delevan were taken from them. He didn’t remember Father as he used to be, before tragedy changed him so.

  Cynthia heard Father’s voice, low and rough.

  “If I let go, I’m letting my son down.”

  Cynthia heard her Father sob for the first time.

  “I can’t bear it. Someone murdered our sons, Ellie! I want the murderer brought to justice, I want my son’s name cleared. He never… Miles never did such a thing, he loved his brother, he never looked at Sarah the way that she claims!” he choked out. “A more honorable young man never lived, and to have his good name tainted with such lies…”

  “I know Del, I know,” Mother sobbed too. “But Del, do we allow the murderer to destroy our family? He has already taken our sons. We mustn’t let him take us all!”

  “But what of Miles? He would be sickened to realize what people say about him now, even those who once claimed to be his friends. I want the truth to be known. The Sheriff was nothing but a hindrance, and it was my great pleasure to see him out of office,” Father said with grim satisfaction.

  “Miles would be even more sickened if he knew your quest for the truth is destroying you, and the rest of us. Miles loved James and Cynthia, and he would be grieved beyond measure if he knew the agony they are now in. Let go of this hunt for truth, Del. It isn’t there to be found. If Sarah did not vanish the very night she told us this story, we’d have hope of finding it. Without her, we have nothing to go on. Absolutely nothing.”

  “And her ship went down, all hands lost…” Father said.

  Cynthia heard the rustle of Mother’s dress as she went to Father.

  “I don’t know why Sarah lied. We both know that she did. But can we doubt the grief in her eyes and voice were true? I cannot fathom an acceptable excuse to say the things she did about our blameless son… but her grief was real. Her reason, whatever it may be… I cannot believe she felt she had a choice.”

  Father took a deep breath, then exhaled.

  “All right, Ellie. I know what you say is true. I know what Miles would want for us… and Delevan, as well. I do not know how… but I’ll try to forgive Sarah, and move forward.”

  The pinched look on Cynthia’s face relaxed a bit. For Father to speak so, it meant a change. She hurried to find James, to tell him what she overheard. They would never have their brothers again, but they would have their Father back.

  As she climbed the stairs, she felt a soft whisper of air brush her cheek. She looked around, but could not tell from where it came. Puzzled, she continued on, wondering why it was that it comforted her so.

  ~***~

  I lay in bed staring at Miles’ photo. It hurt unbearably that I’d never again see those laughing eyes, and hear his voice. Why were we in such a hurry. Why didn’t we wait to read that letter? Wait until I was ninety, or a hundred... then we could’ve read it.

  I lay there, throat aching, chest so tight I couldn’t breathe, tears pouring silently down my face, holding his photo and wishing with all my heart I could follow him. Or that he could return to me.

  In the early hours of the morning, something scratched at the door. Chip woke up and went to investigate, as I dragged myself off the bed. Chip whined, and outside there was an answering whine, so I opened the door.

  Trixie stood on the other side, her head low, and her tail drooping. She whimpered and looked at me pleadingly, her brown eyes filled with sorrow.

  “You poor thing! You couldn’t go with him this time?” I hugged her tight, and was overtaken by uncontrollable sobs. Tears ran down my face and onto her golden fur. My heart was broken for both of us. Of course I felt sorry for me, but poor Trixie! How could she possibly understand where her beloved friend had gone. She chose to follow him before, but now she was left behind.

  I broke my rule of “no dog on the bed,” and invited Chip and Trixie to join me as I lay back down. I needed the companionship and the comfort.

  I tried to fall asleep, hoping for an escape from the pain, but sleep refused to come. I didn’t bother getting up in the morning. There was no one to get up for… nothing for me to do. I could have spent the whole day talking to Miles, if only…

  How is it possible to feel dead inside and hurt this much, at the same time.

  I couldn’t bear to talk to anyone, so I skipped my usual first thing in the morning phone call to Polly. But then I realized, I couldn’t quit caring about other people, just because I was hurting. Polly would want to know that I found the proof, and solved the mystery. I forgot all about her part in this, and that one of the reasons she hired me was so I would accomplish this very thing. I had to let her know we... I succeeded, and maybe it would brighten her day. She didn’t have much to smile about herself, lately.

  “Hi Polly, it’s Anika. How are you?”

  “I’m doing alright, dear. I’ve been better, but I’m sure we all have. And how are you, dear? You don’t sound well.”

  “I’m... feeling sick.” Heart sick.

  “Do take it easy dear, don’t overdo.”

  “I’m staying in bed today… How is your grandson?”

  “The same,” Polly stifled a sob. “I took the morning shift, and Enid is there now, taking the afternoon. Our old bones just can’t handle sitting in waiting room chairs all day long, so we’ve started taking turns.”

  Poor Polly.

  “I’m glad Enid is with you,” I said. “I have news to tell you, if you feel up to it.”

  “Is it good, or bad?”

  “I think you’ll like it,” I said, as I thought of all the things Polly didn’t know. “It’s a long story… a lot has happened since you’ve been gone.”

  I told Polly why Sarah lied, and about Sarah’s first letter, and that Cynthia cut it into paper dolls. She was fascinated to hear of the riddle that pointed the way to the jewels hidden in the cave, and that Sarah never boarded that ship to Europe, she survived, and was my great-great-great grandmother. She was stunned to learn that Sarah was injured and lost her memory of that day in the clearing, and that’s why she never contacted the Bannermans. She exclaimed in astonishment when I told her about the hatbox that hid the letter naming the men responsible for Miles and Delevan’s murders, which was salvaged from the Capricious, and how I tracked it down.

  When I finished, Polly was ecstatic.

  “I knew it, I knew you would do it! You are such a smart young lady, Anika. I hired you that day as we walked the estate grounds, because you believed in Miles’ innocence. And now to learn that you are Sarah’s great-great-great granddaughter as well. Perhaps that is what I could see in you, that you were meant to solve this mystery and finish what she couldn’t. I’m so proud of you. I couldn’t be more proud! Even the Bannerman family heirloom jewels! Thank you, my dear!”

  “You’re welcome, Polly. I’m glad I was able to do it.”

  I was glad to hear her so happy.

  “I want you to call someone for me, Anika. Here, let me give you the number…”

  I wrote it down.

  “This is a reporter friend of mine, Phil Walker. I’ll let him know you’ll be calling. He’s covered items of news concerning our family for many years, and I want you to tell him everything you’ve found. We’ll clear the family name, and show the world proof that Miles Bannerman is innoc
ent.”

  “Okay Polly, I’ll call today.”

  “Won’t this just get Alfred’s goat!” she said.

  But what really cooked Alfred’s goose, was when Polly’s grandson awoke from the coma.

  I first heard about it on the news late that night, as I lay in bed feeling numb and aching with pain, impossible as that seemed.

  “Alfred Sullivan, charged with attempted murder of billionaire heir, Miles Bannerman, on News Channel seven, at ten.”

  Whoa, what? I talked to Polly just this afternoon. A lot must have happened since then. I stayed close to the TV, not wanting to miss this.

  I was shocked at what I learned.

  Polly’s grandson was out of the coma. Not only was he awake, he was naming the person guilty of attempted murder, when they pushed him off the cliff.

  Alfred Sullivan now had a lot bigger things to worry about than giving Polly fits, by threatening to seize the position of trustee for the estate. And the heir was in stable condition and making a rapid recovery, so all was well in that regard.

  I called Polly immediately, I was pretty sure she wouldn’t be asleep after all this!

  “Oh it is just the most marvelous thing, dear!” Polly beamed over the phone. “The doctors are calling it a miracle. Miles is awake, and doing well. The doctors aren’t ready to release him, they said it would be dangerous to leave the hospital just yet. There have been some complications, but he’s recovering.”

  “Wow Polly, I am so happy to hear that! I’m so glad Alfred didn’t get away with it, too. I imagine he’s pretty busy being charged with attempted murder now.”

  “Oh, yes, Anika dear! Miles has been interviewed by the detective, and Alfred has been arrested. Once we knew Alfred was guilty, a search warrant was issued. The detectives found Miles’ driver’s license and other identification hidden in Alfred’s home. He needn’t try and escape punishment with some hotshot defense attorney, either. The D.A. has the Bannerman fortune behind them, there will be no skimping when it comes to building their case. Money is no object.”

  I never heard a real person say that before.