+1+
It started to rain when I arrived in London, I stepped out the cab and took my time getting inside of the hotel. II had grown so use to the predictable weather in Ireland. The dreary London streets however seemed to be an ideal location for a man as evasive as Essex.
I checked into the hotel and went back to tip the cab driver but he had driven off.
Why is that line in here ? Why ?
I removed my hat and coat and followed the door man upstairs, he looked suspiciously at the warn state my luggage however the large tip I gave him made him overly attentive. The suite was very specific it had large windows, a kitchen and bedroom, one of the nicer hotels I had stayed in since leaving New York.
So it’s been 3 years since Mr. F has been in the U.S
I enjoyed the silence of the room, real solitude it had been a while since I had been truly alone.
I
had never been to London, I didn’t feel much like sightseeing. I was on a
mission so to speak.
I began to wonder what I would finally say to Mr. Essex ?
ANGST ANGST ANGST
I reached for the telephone against the wall and dialed Emile, hearing his voice for the first time in years.
"Hello ?", he was as always cheerful.
"Emile, it's me"
"Fierro, It's good to hear your voice--wait are you calling from London ?"
He
used caller ID to figure out where he is calling from. Not sure why Mr. F doesn’t ask. He probably
doesn’t care. BECAUSE OF ANGST.
"Yes, I am not here permanently though."
"You should go to King's College.", he said abruptly
"Emile, I'm not here to sight see."
Cause in Mr. F's world visiting college's is sightseeing.
"I highly suggest it."
"I'll make time then--"
"Make time ? Just do it now."
"Emile--"
"Trust me", he said hanging up.
Oh,
Emile just loves surprising people. Emile knows Clara is in town to. I really think I worte most of this in to elongate the till the reunion and fill it with . . . stuff.
An actual rule of writing it : Don't write the parts no one wants to read.
My eyes fell back to the map. King's College wasn't that far from the hotel. The daily rain had been reduced to a light drizzle and I knew if anyone I could trust Emile. I found an umbrella and simply resorted to walking. By the time I made it to the college the sun had already gone down.
I turned to leave when I thought I heard someone call my name.
It’s CLARA
No one thought that ?
Okay.
I convinced myself I had misheard.
"Wait", the voice was closer now and I recognized it as Emile's.
He jogged up to me from around the corner, he had not changed a bit since the last time I saw. He reached me fully out of breathe.
"What brings you here", I asked
"Work", he said, "And you ?"
I considered if I should tell him the truth. Emile's life had gone on well all these years. I would not burden him with such dark thoughts.
"A little of everything", I said.
You know, trying to track down an occultist and figure out the meaning of life and get rid of the whole dead!wife situation and what not.
"I'm giving a lecture tomorrow, you should come."
"I will", I said., "Emile. I must say. . . it is good to see you."
"I'd almost thought you'd fallen off the side of the earth."
"Hardly, though I have been doing a lot of thinking"
LiLe : NOW KISS !
M.F & E : ?
This is making some good Vault material.
"How long are you in town"
"I can't say I have the answer... not long."
He was hesitant about his next question, but I expected it.
"And Lucie still follows you ?"
"I suppose that is a way to say it. Though I am alone now."
We
were both silent when he finally spoke again.
"What about Victor"
"Victor ?", I had yet to think of him in years, "No. I'd imagine he is off causing trouble somewhere else."
"The same trouble as Lucie"
"Emile, we don't know what it is like to be them--"
"It's her nature", he said, "Their nature to cause chaos, that everyone knows for sure."
Yeah, I mean you have know idea what Victor is doing to your family. . . mostly cause I haven't told you have a daughter. I bet if I did that would solve a lot of problems.. . . but for plot sake I won't. HEROIC BSOD."Then why is the whole world not in complete chaos ? Why is there not turmoil and pain everywhere."
"Isn't there ?", he said, "For how much good in this world is their evil ?"
"I refuse to judge her as so."
"I suppose I can't stop you"
He moved away from the embankment turning towards where he had come.
"Well", he said . "I should get ready for tomorrow. Please be on time and we need to talk afterward. Good Night"
"Good-night"
So, Emile is planning on telling him about Clara.
+2+
I found my way back to the hotel and contemplated going back to my room. My
conversation with Emile reminded me of the unknown and dark information I was
seeking. Had I not caused enough people their lives ?
I
headed for the elevator when a voice stopped me.
“Sir, the elevator is broken”
This was the hint that Clara and Fierro were in the same hotel. I put in most of these little things for myself. Also BROKEN ELEVATOR. Remeber this . . .
Chapter 11
The bar was similar to the other dozens of hotel bars I had previously visited. It was dark and warm smelling faintly of smoke and ash. This one was small and intimate, I found a place at the end of the bar watching the people listlessly in front of me.
People seemed impervious to the late hour and time seemed to be an obstacle between myself and where I wanted to be.
He
is a bit whiny here. TIME, why are you so slow ? Blah blah blah
“Sir”, the bartender approached me.
“Water. please”, I said not bothering to look at him.
I glanced at my watch it was just past midnight , and I was still not
quite ready to return to the solidarity of my suite.
. I had yet to receive my drink and spied the bartender preoccupied with a
woman at the end of the bar. The water I had ordered was tilting side to
side in his hand.
Stop ordering water at a BAR you have a kitchen in your room. . . I just. . .
His eyes aimlessly wandered over her and though I knew it was impractical to
watch a woman so closely I could see what the bartender found so
intriguing about her even though I couldn’t see her face. . She dressed
provocatively but her body language provided the complete opposite, she was
self –conscious. Perhaps with no reason to be.
Or
in layman’s terms : DAT ASS
I chided myself for such thoughts
Wow, this is kind of like that last time you hit on a random girl
I decided to forgo such company that seemed to inhabit the bar and
gathered myself together, taking one last look in the mirror behind the bar. I
was temporarily relieved in knowing that I was, for however short a time, free
from the ghost of my past.
Almost
My eyes once again fell on the woman at the other end of the bar as
she was twisting the ends of her long dark hair, she seemed nervous turning
slightly to reveal the side of her face and I knew my mind and eyes must be
deceiving me.
She looked up as she took her drinks and there was no doubt that it was her.
I stood nearly tripping over myself standing up. I hesitated as she turned to
leave.
What good would ever come of this ?
Running away was something I was good at now.
Tomas : Hey I’m the one who is good at running
Mr. F : I was gone for 4 years
Tomas : I ran away to NYC twice, New Jersey, then Lithuania in the course of like 8 months. With NO money.
Mr. F : Well pardon me for living
Tomas : Really ? Cause you are supposed to be dead.
LiLe : Okay you guys can battle it out in Rivals : LiLe Characters. Although I am on Tomas’ side.
Knowing would never help. . . I couldn't make the same mistakes again.
Death and misery were the only things that followed me now.
I knew if I followed her every terrible action that followed would be my doing.
Somethings
were simply never meant to be.
Guys,
I boiled up to this big reunion and I could have done something way more
climatic. Of course I resorted to the stairs thing cause I was stuck on the scene in Beauty and The Beast when Bell comes down the stairs. I think if I were to redo it one there would have been some sort of run/chase/slap/slap/kiss situation.
Sill I followed her to the stairs, she was beautifully unaware of the danger
behind her. She carefully began to take the stairs, before she could
descend to the second flight I called to her.
The first irrational decision I'd made in a longtime.
+2+
“Ms.
DeLune-“,
She stopped, the glasses in her hands slipped loose shattering on the
stairs. We were only feet apart now.
I
have no idea why a Hotel employee doesn’t notice this. I mean she just broke a glass
on the public stairs. Probaly cause the guy behind the desk was reading earlier for reasons I don't know.
For a second her knees moved from beneath her then she continued up a few more
steps It had never been my intention to follow her we were just going in the
same direction.
I caught up to her at the fourth step. Slowly taking the last few steps towards
her, knowing I should turn away.
The
fourth step ? Learn to run faster Clara
Temptation in the flesh, that was what she was. Although she wasn’t really .she
looked sad, tired and to be honest not entirely beautiful anymore. My eyes were
drawn to the deep scars on her face.
She
reached for my hand and pulled me up the last few steps till we were inches
apart for the first time in years, breathing the same air.
Neither of us blinked our gazes connected, I had not even noticed her moving
closer to me.
“You must have me confused with someone else.”, she whispered
“Why is that?”
“Because, the only person to call me that died a long time ago.”
She
should slap him here. I mean he pretended to be dead all these years.
“Please forgive me”, I said
“You are not real. . . you can't be”
“Can you not hear my breath Ms. DeLune ? feel my heart how am I not real”
Now that we were so close time had begun to show its face. Years had separated
us and chance perhaps had reunited us.
Her hand fell from mine, gently she clasped it close to her heart. I stepped
away and I felt her disappointment. I knew disappointment was waiting for me.
“ I watched you die”, she said tears began to form in her eyes, “I’ve
watched you die over and over again in my dreams. . . in my nightmares-“
Hmm,
there should really be some slapping going on here. POOR CLARA. Look what he put here through.
“I had to”, I said though she would never understand. , “I never wanted to see
you hurt again.”
“Too late.”, she said softly
BURN !
"I was protecting you."
"You lied to me."
Hmmm, still no slaping ?
This time I stepped closer closing the space between us. I wanted to tell her I was sorry but the words would never be there. She peered back up at me. Her eyes were dark as night and rimmed lightly in red. I studied every curve and path of the scars that ran down her otherwise perfect skin. The heat of being so close to someone whom I had only dreamed of made the past years seems like seconds.
"I beg you to understand"
"You can't be real", she said half convinced
Timidly I pressed my lips to her scarred ones and I had to remind myself to breathe. She understood- -I hoped and perhaps for a few minutes came to realize how real I was. .
"Please allow me to explain-"
"No I---"
"Ms. DeLune", I insisted, "I--"
"I can'--t"
"Clara--"
"Mr. Fierro", she was stern then spoke softly, " I can't-- I--my daughter is waiting for me"
Okay,
I’ll take that as a metaphorical slap in the face. She says this to hurt him.
Mr. F (with Idiot Ball) : Okay let me think this through. Emile did mention in chapter 2 that Clara moved to Italy so maybe she married Peter and now they have a family. Or maybe she married that Mr. Thorpe character who we never hear from again it would explain why she is in this expensive hotel. Wait maybe she married Emile, I mean he IS in town. . . oh wait that can’t happen. Hmmmm. Or maybe she married--
Logic
: Why do you think she is married ?
Technically : lived in the 1940s and 50’s . Kid = Marriage
A family. Once again I was standing between her and her family.
DRAMATIC IRONY !
“I should not keep you then. . . perhaps we could talk in the morning”
"Yes"
She
was considering my proposition and I wanted to touch her once more to be sure
she was real. I sensed she felt the same but neither of us moved.
We both lingered outside the door, she finally pushed the door open and
disappeared into the room.
I moved one step over and entered my suite, the air was cold and still but I
would have no regrets.
+++
I heard screams unlike anything I had ever heard that night. At first I thought
it to be my imagination but it was all to real. I approached the door that
connected the adjoining rooms carefully maneuvering the old lock
until it clicked open. Carefully I began pushing it open just a bit.
Logic : Wait why can he open the locks in the adjoining room ? Isn’t that like a hotel liability ?
LiLe : I don’t know he picked the lock
Tomas: Oh, now he can pick locks
LiLe
: I don’t think you ever picked a lock. Jumpstarted a car, maybe.
There was no doubt I could hear Ms.
DeLune screaming. She sounded as if she were in pain which only became louder
as the door opened.
Mr.
F : Hmmm, I should probably do something. . .but for plotsake I won't.
*Heroic BSOD*
There was a very dim light in the small room,. From my position by
the door I saw a girl—her daughter --I presumed kneeling on the bed gently
touching her mother’s hair trying to comfort her.
The
darkness obscured most of the room, the shadows were large and illuminated
against the wall.
The more
I watched the scene before me it began to change while staying the same. The
more the girl attempted to comfort her mother the worse her screams became, as
if she was causing the nightmare
Suddenly her eyes seemed to find me in the darkness the door jumped and closed
itself, the lock clicked back in place.
Oh, that's that telekentic thing I'm always hinting at but never talk about.
+3+
Clara
Hearing that voice saying that name, and suddenly I didn't want to be called anything else.
I had seen so many ghost so many things I didn't want to believe lately I wanted to scream. finally the last image I never wanted to see again appeared so real to me. Felt so real. I touched my lips at the memory
By living he had hurt me more than dying, that is if he were still even alive. I had been living the biggest lie and the worse part is I didn't even know it.
I feel so bad for Clara at this point
There were still dark circles under my eyes, I couldn't remember the last time I had a good night's rest. Then I remembered the night before we had left Italy.
You know, after the Hot Italian Lovin' . . . I'll stop.
We.
I looked back at Rosalie, she was on the floor rubbing her eyes. Rosalie would always be there holding my hand, demanding attention. .. never again would I simply be Clara.
So Clara doesn’t want to inflict the pain that is Rosalie on anyone. Especially not Peter.
I pushed such thoughts aside concentrating on finding something more modest to dress in. Once I felt prepared for whatever was waiting I took Rosalie by the hand and cautioned her.
Clara : Cause I don’t want him thinking I want him back. Which I don’t . . . I mean he LEFT me for my own good ? Who does that ? Well I’ve moved on, I have a new job, I smart I’m getting degrees and Sh!t
Bella : Well, maybe if you did nothing but sit around for months and months maybe he would have comeback sooner.
Meta
: Really LiLe ? Picking on Twilight ? What year is it ?
“Please be a good girl, Rosalie”
She just crossed her arms and began to take the pink ribbons out of her hair.
Clara : Uh, what does she think she has better fashion sense then me ?
Rosalie insisted that I hold her since she did not feel well, from last night.
I left the door to my room opened and knocked on the room next door not
sure what to expect.
Clara : Yeah, maybe I just imagined it. That makes much more sense.
I half expected some sleepy middle aged couple to open the door and last night be a nightmare a beautiful nightmare but one nonetheless.
Clara
: Not that I think he’s beautiful or anything. #DeLuneSchoolOfDenial
LiLe
: You sure are chatty
The door opened just a little.My heart was beating fiercely and not met with
disappointed instead a pair of tired pale eyes. After a while he pushed the
door open and I realized I hadn’t been dreaming.
Clara
: hmmm. Pale eyes . . . still in denial.
“Good Morning”, he said opening the door the rest of the way and inviting us
in.
I paused at the door and turned to face him.
“Rosalie, this is Mommy’s friend Mr. Fierro."
Mr. F (With idiot ball) : Okay. I don’t know anything about children so how old could this girl be ? Something about her makes her seem more aware than most kids. Maybe 2 or 3 ? When is her birthday that might be helpful. Where is Clara’s husband ? Why did she respond to Ms. DeLune ? hasn’t she changed her last name ?
She crossed her arms in further protest. The suite was much more extravagant
than ours featuring a kitchen, bar, and dining room.
I set Rosalie down with her doll and book.
“I’m sorry about that she is –“
Not
friendly or nice. Was what she was going
to say
“It’s fine”, he said turning towards a whistling kettle. “she is very
beautiful”
Mr. F : Well I haven’t seen her walk or talk so she must be young. She has black hair and so did Peter so Clara must be married to Peter. *phew*
Logic : Um, what about the pale eyes and unpigmented skin ?
Mr.
F: What ? I Can’t hear you . . .
“Oh.. .Thank you”
Clara
: No one’s ever said she was beautiful. Well, I’m sure it doesn’t mean I should mention anything
“She reminds me of fictional characters; hair as dark as ebony, lips as red as
blood and skin as white as snow.”
Clara
: Okay, that was the weirdest thing to say ever, but kind of sweet ? Not that I should say anything.
“Yes, well I suppose that’s true.“, I was still hesitant, "H-how do
I know you're really alive?"
Clara : well that’s enough about her
He walked to an open suitcase producing a flat straight razor and casually places it in his palm. I winced as he pulled it against the skin the blood running down his wrist.
See he’s not a ghost he can bleed.
Somehow I felt responsible and pushed his hand underneath a stream of cold water
“You
are not safe you know", he said, "I still see Lucie every now and
then, she is absolutely vengeful.”, his eyes were vacant for several seconds
so I decided to speak.
“Sometimes I think staying alive has gotten a lot harder”
“Not if you know how to live”
“How do you live ?”, I asked taking a sip of the strong bitter tea.
“Better. . . I suppose”, he sat down in the chair facing me, motioning for me
to pour the boiling water over the tea cups.
“Alone still ?”
“What brings you so far from home”, he asked
I scoffed silently at the word "home" and drew my eyes to the table.
I wanted to come right out and tell him the truth about Victor and why I was
running, but I didn’t know if I could trust him. After all he was still
somewhat attached to Lucie, right ? I cringed at the tinge of jealousy I
had towards her.
“What brings you. . . here ?”, I asked pouring sugar into the bitter tea
Neither one of us it seemed was ready to be completely honest.
"I'm certain Emile knows why you are here", he said
I choked on the overly sweet tea finally realizing that Emile had also lied to me all these years. Or had he ?
Technically : You never asked “Oh, by the way Mr. F is dead right ?”
Clara : That’s no excuse.
"I'm sure he knows why you are here too", I said. Not wanting him to sense my sudden anger at them.
"No"
I steadied my hands on the table, concentrating on the solid grain of the table. I reached for his hand turning it over to examine the cut, drawing my fingers to the mangled space where a finger should have been. I could feel the tension in his hand and I pulled away.
"You both lied to me", I said, "You made a fool of me"
"I simply made a choice"
"I know. You chose to live with her than to die for me. I tried to forget at first. . . I figured it would be for the best but I found myself doing a lot of thinking. You and I were unfortunate in a way. We were both ready to live happily ever after with out first loves before we were taken from them. . . now that we have them back, everything is as it should have been."
Mr. F : So. . . she is married to Peter ?
"I suppose that part is true"
Mr.
F : I knew it. Who cares that she doesn't have a ring and the kid looks nothing like Peter.
+4+
"Rosalie"
I yelled her name louder this time as I weaved through the crowed of people outside the Conference Centre. I had let go of her hand for less than a second and she had run off. .. or someone had taken her.
Or maybe she was following someone. Whatever.
Somehow
I deluded myself to think I could enjoy intellectual study while traveling with
a child. Upon arriving at Emile's lecture I decided it would be best if
Rosalie and I sat outside and waited for Emile.
Lines like that make you seem douchey Clara, take her Disney Princess on Ice.
While we were waiting outside I had practically dragged Rosalie over to a coffee stand and promised to buy her something but she was as always impatient. Her hand slipped out of mine for less than a second and she was gone.
Rosalie was probably just being mischievous. The people entering the lecture seemed unaware of my small crisis, maybe there had simply been too many people and she was hiding again.
"Ma'am", someone called to me
I turned to see a sullen police officer with Rosalie, she looked as if she had been crying.
"I think this little girl is looking for you"
So, side story. In my head Rose sees her imaginary friend Ghost!Lucie who tells her that things are about to change and their time together is ending. SoonRose's parents will soon be the ones to protect her. Rose is crying because Lucie disspeears and she is calling out for Lucie. This guard thinks Clara's name is Lucie.
"Rose, don't run away from me aga--"
She started screaming when I tried to pick her up, she continued to cry trying to pull away from me. I had never seen her cry like that before.
"Rosalie, what's wrong."
I
shot a look at the officer as he seemed content with his job and backed away. I
took her to a bench and let her sit in my lap until she calmed down. Her tears
eventually dried and I realized she must have been crying because we had been
separated.
No, that’s not it.
We walk around the relatively quiet campus, quietly watching the Thames. Though she let go of my hand Rosalie was carefully never to move so much as 3 inches away from me.
"Clara"
I turned at the cheerful sound of my name and found Emile walking towards me with Mr. Fierro on his heels.
"Don't look at me like that", Emile said as he came closer
"Like what ?", I asked my anger melting at his smile.
"Like you're disappointed in me."
"Well I wouldn't say disappointed but I will forgive you", I joked
Uh,
Clara you are way to forgiving. You need to slap at least one of them, There should have been a seen dealing with all the lies and secrets I don't know why I didn't focus on that.
"Wonderful, I've spent all day with long-winded academics and there is nothing I'd love more than spending some time spoiling Rosalie."
"Well, I guess we could go shopping--"
"We could", he said indicating himself and Rosalie, "let me give you a break,eh ?"
Clara : Uh Finally. Hey Emile you can’t have kids you know you could adopt her . . .
I
glanced up at Mr. Fierro and realized he must have wanted to speak with me
alone.
"Alright", I gave in.
I watched as the pair of them walked
off until they were out of sight. Mr. Fierro began walking in the opposite
direction and I began to follow him, except for the previous night I had yet to
see him look at me directly but I took it in stride.
The silence was once again broken by my cell phone, idly I picked it up without
looking.
"Clara ?", Peter's voice was concerned on the other end.
"Peter, I'm sorry I''ve been busy"
Mr. F : So . . . the
husband is calling ?
"Are you okay ?"
"Yes, of course. . . things just came up"
"Where are you, Clara ?"
"The St. Mark in London---something for school and then-"
"Then you'll comeback to Italy"
"Now isn't a good time, Peter"
"Hear me out. You don't feel at home in the states Clara. . . I'm offering
you both a real home. Please talk to me"
"Later Peter. . . I promise"
"It is always later with you"
POOR PETER ):
He hung up before I could respond but I didn't know what I would say.
"I'm sorry", I said turning back to Mr. Fierro.
"Emile said you had left some years ago.. . is that where you were ? with
Mr. Morratti", his questioned seemed sincere
"Yes"
"Living with him ?"
"Yes, in a small apartment overlooking the Tiber", I said the last
partly mostly to myself.
"Why go back to New York ?", he asked, " Should you not
have stayed with him ?"
Mr. F : hmmmm. . . so not married to Peter ? Where did the girl come from. . . Okay, I can figure this out . . .
"Forgive me", he said letting the subject go, "I have decided to
tell you my intentions, but in order for me to divulge my secrets I must know
some of yours."
"I feel as if I've said enough."
"Not entirely but I can infer. Emile has advised me that I should tell you. I have come across a book by a man named Robert Essex, he has written about the realities of death. He seems to know so much about Life, Death and Spectres. I think he may be able to help me get rid of Lucie. I doubt you would understand but I am never truly free from her, I would like her to move on"
Mr. F's inferring skills are awful.
"Hasn't she already ?"
"Essex seems to imply that there is something. . . somewhere else. A true heaven for lost souls like her. She doesn't belong in this world."
"And Victor ?"
"What does he have to do with it ?"
"It seems that Victor wants to kill my daughter. I don't know why he is being vindictive I suppose. I tried hiding from him but he is always there. . . leaving signs so I will always know he is there. It is a game to him. The clock is slowly ticking and Rosalie only has four days left."
"Victor is full of anger and vengeance, he always has been."
Mr. F : Cause I have no idea what that is like.
He seemed to be lost in thought again and I assumed it was because he had felt the same way towards my family.
"This Essex might be able to help me as well, maybe it was not just chance that we stumbled upon each other."
So
when I finished my outline I could not logically figure out a McGuiffin that
would get rid of Spectres. This is what Essex’s characters was supposed to do and he doesn't.
"There are no guarantee's Ms. DeLune"
"I find I'm starting to believe in miracles"
"Not a miracle, a carefully crafted lie"
What he is referring to is that him not being dead wasn’t a miracle, it was just a really good lie.
We kept walking and after a while I began to get the familiar feeling that he had forgotten I was there. At some point he had begun smoking, concentrating more on the weak match than anything else.
"I'll leave you to yourself", I said
"Meet me at noon tomorrow, please don't be late", he said
"Then what ?"
"Continue on our separate ways. I will continue to live the quiet life I always intended. Just as our lives should have been."
I agreed silently recognizing my own words. For the first time in a while I was able to be alone. While sitting alone in the small hotel room I realized loneliness was something I didn't care for.