Muse : YAY !
LiLe : What ?
Muse : You know what.
Piano Sonata
+1+
Mr. Fierro
The air was warm and humid, the heat was temped and still bearable without
opening my eyes I knew exactly where I was.
The Glasshouse
I stared up at the dark starry sky as it was filtered through the slanted roof
of the glasshouse. An impressive vine of orchid weaved its way onto my sight.
Looking to the side my jacket and vest and tie have been removed and folded
haphazardly on the floor
“Lucie ?”, I called
Using the jacket I wiped the moisture from my face and arms followed by the
blood from where Lucie had struck me.
I soon found that the back automatic sliding glass doors were sealed
shut, air tight I feared. The facility itself was rather large, nearly the size
of the football field that should be enough air
“Lucie”, I yelled but she was far off
There was a crash near the front of the glasshouse. Just a few inches from the
front doors there was a smashed ceramic pot lying in a pile of dirt and
unearthed oleanders on the floor.
Muse : Aren’t oleanders poisonous flower. Hey what if. . .
LiLe
: No
“Are we going to die in here?”
“Ms. Delune ?”
Clara threw a plant at the doors to open them
She had come up from behind me with another ceramic pot in hand, she was still
dressed in a dark blue and white dress with large gold buttons, now sprinkled
with dirt. She stopped short and hurled the pot at the doors, this time leaving
the smallest of scratches.
“This glass was created to withstand even the worst Upstate hurricanes”, I
informed her, “. . . it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Ms. Delune was seemingly paired with fulfilling this punishment with
me. I recalled seeing Roger in the rear view mirror and it suddenly
seemed worth the trouble. I imagined his discomfort ,his fears still there was
something distracting.
She sat against the door of the storage room, now using a pair of shear to cut
the bandages off her fingers.
“. . .no water, with all this heat ?”, she attempted to flex her fingers
as the make shift splints fell off.
I walked around the greenhouse looking for a way out. Not a single pane
in the glass work was loose, the doors held firm. I wondered how many hours had
passed since the accident, how long would Lucie keep us here ?
Ms. DeLune noticed my growing frustration.
“I don’t understand”, she said watching me, “she keeps us locked in that house
for months and you barley notice yet now you seem concerned.”
“Silence”, I snapped her, “Damn it Lucie, she has no right too—“
“Just as she has no right to use my body and yet you let her. “, Ms. DeLune
began to follow me, “she has taken over your house, your work, your life and
now your garden. What right does she have ? She has turned a place of sanctuary
into a prison”
Yeah, that’s right
Lucie all men have their tipping point. You can Posses his love interst, paint
his house, use his credit card, but don’t mess with a man’s garden. Just like
the time I told the barista to give my SO decaf espresso.
Turning, I nearly ran into her, she was becoming suspicious.
“Why did you take me to see my grandfather?” she asked
“I can’t tell you, I beg you not to ask”
I stepped backwards and toward the back of the facility, it had been so long
since I had spent quality time in the glasshouse. Each plant was strategic
placed with by genius species or lighting
I located a few liters of warm distilled water in a storage room. The sprinkler
system had been turned off and for a fleeting minute I despised Lucie for
killing my flowers.
What
is this murder, arson and jaywalking ? I’m starting to really not like Mr.F
I stopped suddenly noticing the brilliant red roses, true I had seen them
hundreds of times but had they always been this bright? Reaching for one I
pricked my finger letting a single drop of blood run down.
Still leaning against the storage room Ms. DeLune, was studying her hands
intently. There were a few scars from where they had broken, but for the most
part appeared smooth which was surprising for someone who made a living with
their hands.
The warm air rose quickly, finding it cooler on the floor I found a
place across from her.
She had a daisy in her hand, its petals tossed carelessly across the
floor.
“I’d always wondered”, Ms. DeLune said gracefully standing, “Why flowers, why
rose gardens? I thought it was because they were beautiful.”
“I get it now”, she continued to terrorize the flower my eyes now following her
every step, “These flowers these wild beautiful things, you like to tame them.
The garden grows and dies at your command. It’s not about beauty it’s about
controlling nature. . .like you couldn’t Lucie. Or your murder.”
Mr.
F : Is she PULLING APART my flowers ?
“That is very good, Ms. DeLune”, I admitted after a while.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think”, she said
“And what of your music”
“I love music”, she said walking in a circle, “That’s all there is to it. I
love writing it, teaching it, the keys beneath my fingers” she kneeled behind
me, “I love. . . music.
Her knees softly hit the ground and she pressed her chest into my back, the
uncovered skin of her arms was surprisingly cool to the touch. She wrapped her
arms around mine the pads of her fingers finding mine.
She let go of my hands and began running her hands through my hair and around
my neck.
It was eerily silent, not even the buzz of an insect or the howl of the wind.
Soon I could feel nothing except the ground beneath me and her soft hands.
My eyes began to grow heavy, I felt as though she were playing some tricking
me. How could she not realize how I was using her, how could she not
realize that. . .
She stated to hum silently.
“I want to go home”, she kissed me, “don’t you”
So,
this is so unfortunate in retrospect. Clara is basically making Mr. F feel sorry for her. After what
he has done by taunting her grandfather (which Clara doesn’t realize he was
doing on purpose) it just doesn’t look
good for her to get all touch feely with him.
“Yes, of course”, I could barely hear my own answer.
My home existed fifty years from here, that’s why I could not let her go. To
find home would be to leave her behind.
LiLe : So now Mr. F is really considering the outcomes. He really thinks about what it would be like to live in a world where A. Clara wasn’t born yet or B. Where Clara is dead. Also this is the one of the few times he is able to go to sleep.
I left this sad complex thoughts and
allowed myself to drift off.
For the first time in months I almost slept through the night.
Clara : He fell asleep ?
LiLe : Well I mean in each chapter he mentions not being able sleep. I wanted to add to the idea of insomnia fueling his need for revenge. . . not that I should be explaining any of this to you.
So yeah, he finally goes to sleep in Clara’s arms.
+2+
Le Onde
Another scene that COULD have been taken
out. It’s like look Clara has metaphorically found her way inside and he
doesn’t know how it happened.
First light woke me up, it was a
bright sunshine that was very uncommon this time of year. I awoke in a familiar
house, a familiar room.
A shabby lean-too decorated only with gingham curtains made from a dinner
table. There were piles of books on the floor, the bed I was in creaked
underneath me.
I was in the house. The house I remembered to have originally stood on the
Fierro farm.
Everything was just as I remembered ; nothing was new, every chipped cup,
saucer and plate was out of place.
Even the smell of fresh dirt and wood lingered in the house.
The only difference was there were no doors
.
I remembered the staircase I’d spend hours reading by, the halls that had been
a sanctuary after working long hourse at the factory.
In a sense I was home, the heaven I had hoped truly existed.
Outside of a makeshift window I saw the entire town going about their day.
Faces I knew, names I had never bothered to learn. In the center of it
all was Lucie still in the midst of youth. She looked lost. She was looking for
someone.
“Lucie”, I called to her for this was the far more gentle Lucie I was sure of
it.
She could not hear me and began to wonder out of sight. I shouted for her to
wait. I just need to find a way out. I was certain there had been a door here
or there but they all ceased to exist.
I was going in a circles, from room to room searching for the doors,
the way out. I had to get out.
It felt as if the room was spinning, still I was going to circles till I
stopped.
Right in front of a woman veiled by an artfully grotesque masque.
“Ms. Delune?”, I recognized her before she slowly revealed her face, “How did
you get in ?”
“Don’t your remember, Addison”, she looked me straight in the eye with sweet
contentment, “You let me in.”
Daf9 Crimes
I loved Damien Rice’s 9 crimes and I want so much
more from this section now. I would have built it up more along the idea that
there relationship shouldn’t happen. And all of talking was in there because Clara (who was
waiting for marriage) wouldn’t be with someone who didn’t love her.
Mr. Fierro awoke with a start,
reaching and feeling as if to see if I was still there.I found his hands and
held on to them tightly before his hands slipped out of my grasp
“How did you . . .”, he began, now facing me
Mr. Fierro appeared confused at best, his expression quickly melted into a more
relaxed one.
He came closer, I knew his vision could be poor and given the terrible
lighting in the greenhouse. I found his silver glasses, that had slipped out of
his jacket, one of the lenses slightly cracked and slid them over his eyes.
I expected an air of recognition or possibly a thank you, instead he kissed me.
He traced and moved a strand of hair from my eyes. I was suddenly struck by how
young he appeared, In the semi light I saw his cautious glances, a silent look
as we shared far less innocent kiss. The back of his hand continued across my
cheek over my chin stopping at my neck, he appeared fixated. lost only
momentarily in thought.
+++
She was so foolish.
Choke her.
A voice inside me said, I felt her pulse quicken and throb beneath my hand
Yes, Martin would certainly receive the message. All I need to do was find a
chain surely Roger would get the message and then --
Then like an unexpected fire my guard fell
And he knows a thing
or two about unexpected fire. This whole chapter setup kind of irks me now.
She touched me.
Just barley
The tip of her ring finger pressed firmly against mine, her same soft hands
that played the music that had so mesmerized me.
Kill her kill her
As if she could read my thoughts she pressed her lips hard against me, our
hands now entwined tightly together.
I couldn’t breath and suddenly I needed to be closer to her, I pulled her up
from the floor wrapping my arms around her, momentarily I broke our kiss, she
began to breath heavily across my neck. I listened to her quick exhales,
her warm heated breath against my skin. I turned her chin to look into her dark
eyes.
I lifted her onto the table till she looked into my eyes.
I remembered when I first saw her, what felt like years ago. It was impossible
to think but I was not entirely sure what my life meant before her. At first I
believed her to be an obsession like my gardening or books, something that
would soon pass.
Still it never did.
OMG, I mean they are in a greenhouse. I mean it’s not plausible with all the hard surfaces and what not.
“I have never told you any lies”, I told her suddenly finding it difficult to
speak, “God forgive me. . .I love you”
It was a different kind of betrayal: against who I decided to be not long ago
and the person I suddenly wanted to be.
“I know”, she said closing the space between us, “I’ve always known”
She took my wrist into her hands II watched her carefully unfastened my cuff
links pushing back the sleeves placing a light kiss on the think skin, she
looked back up at me unsure we came closer.
+++
His skin was smooth and clear. I pulled back the sleeves not finding one
imperfection, yet the flaws were everywhere.
My arms settled around his neck my lips touched the just barely visible bare
skin above the collar. I felt a low rhythmic adrenaline running through my
body, lost in the touch of his tongue between my lips.
“I told you you would never take the place of my wife”, he said, “now you may
have it”
I wasn’t afraid, I wasn’t fighting a ghost I was being exactly where I wanted
to be. Maybe I had missed it while caught up in my life but I’d found the
happiness I’d lost somewhere along the way.
+++
Would I ever have my chance for forever with her ? Time it seemed was still the
enemy
“Say yes to me”, I whispered to her
She opened her mouth to speak but didn’t’ answer instead planting a firm
grasp on my collar pulling me onto the table till I hovered just above
her. I watched her hands work the buttons on my shirt.
I was certain I was lost in a dream a fleeting apprehension.
“A daughter”, I reminded her, “Shouldn’t sin against her father.”
“Well, if we must sin let’s us sin together”
Clara : HE BOUGHT MY FATHER INTO THIS
LiLE : Well, this was supposed to come off as teasing/flirting because of the promise ring. . . but it’s not really mentioned I probably would have changed it to something like.
I was certain I was lost in a dream a fleeting apprehension.
“I swore I would be cautious to never sin in my new life”
“Sin?”, she let my shirt fall to the ground, “This is
hardly adultery”
“Adultery ?”, I questioned. Her soft expression masking her anxiety, “I was speaking of lust”
“Well, if we must sin let’s us sin together”
LiLe & Clara : *high five*
So, yes in the off chance this is posted I’m changing it.
+4+
blower's daughter
LiLe : Guys I’m a little underwhelemed by this. I mean after coming off the passioniate serendipitous relationship between Sofia & Tomas. I was actually struck by how many times Tomfia says I Love You. On the other hand Clierro explores the idea of love at first sight. Mr. F has been in love with Clara since he first saw her while he was dead. For Clara is more of an instinct thing, she is just drawn to him for all his indifference. I don’t know if she loves him but she wants to be more than a friend, more than a girlfriend.
Ms. 3 : All I know is if the narrative stops calling a girl after this you are banned from feminism
I may touch on this in DSI (If I make it) but it was never my intention for this (first time) to be when Clara got pregnant, but I made it canon.
LiLe ; I think this might happen but I didn’t do it on purpose. On to THE FLUFF.
It was raining, but only lightly.
It was raining indoors ?
I opened my eyes as the indoor sprinklers misted me with cold fresh water,
fully awake I sat up and let the water and the night wash over my disheveled
appearance.
The water cut off and I realized I was alone. I pulled myself off the floor and
noticed a trail of dirt that dragged from the front doors. The doors remained
air tight I once again felt locked away.
I followed the trail towards the back of the glass house and found Mr.
Fierro replanting the flowers I had thrown at the doors yesterday. He appeared
distracted from his work and far from his usual neat appearance, only glancing
at me as I came closer.
“I’m sorry”, I said motioning to the plants. I took the trowel and filled
the pot with a little more dirt, replacing the flowers back to where they
belonged.
“Bring me some roses”, he said with an air of mischief, I realized he had been
holding my hand and carefully let it go, “Now, Ms. DeLune”
It seemed as if he were back to giving me orders and for some reason I obeyed.
I walked around till I found some roses, he was still watching me as I clipped
a few flowers with a bright yellow with brilliant pink petals, they had a
strong earthy smell like apples that lingered on my hand when I touched them.
“Shouldn’t you be bringing me flowers--”
“Beloved”, he, “Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers Plucked in the
garden, all the summer and winter through”
He took my hands as if to dance but neither of us moved and began to
whisper in my ear,
“. . and it seemed as if thy flowers grew In this close room, nor missed the
sun and showers. So, in the like name of that love of ours. . .
Take back these thoughts which here unfolded too, And which on warm and cold
days I withdrew from my heart’s cold ground. take them, as I used to do Thy
flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine. Instruct thine eyes to keep
their colours true, And tell thy soul, their roots are left in mine.”
Still as his lips were cool against my neck, his words were still tinged with a
subtle bitterness.
I had always been terrible with words, I could however speak through my music
which I at the moment was without.
“You are very peculiar, Mr. Fierro”
“Peculiar how”, he seemed interested
“A lovely type of Peculiar” I said, “although I’d rather hear your words than
Ms. Browning’s”
“. . . you are very beautiful, then”
“I find you are a little beautiful, too”
Bella (from Twilight) : Um, didn’t I say this
Linda
Leigh : *drinks more wine*
Even though I had said it I began to understand how the glasshouse could be a
type of sanctuary, stepping out of one world and into a simpler prettier one.
“I really do want to go home”, I said watering the unblossomed daffodils.
“I know”, he said rather plainly, “I promise when the time is right I will save
you”
“You have to”, I said,” You are the only one who can”
I held carefully to that promise and to some extent still do.
As irrational as it was I prayed for time to slow down, though time had never
been kind.
But there is still some more time till the next part so let’s go find some more tables.
LiLe - 12/2013 : Did I seriously type that ? Oh dear.
+++
Alone, in the warmth of the glasshouse I watched the sun break into twilight.
The absence of light silhouetting the woods and whatever lay in the distance.
Clara’s presence suffocated and drowned me in the most delightful of ways . . .
still I wanted for a tinge of the loneliness I had for years wrapped
myself in.
I imagined she watched me, perhaps from a close distance. I fathomed to think
she must have understood. The sun fell slowly and I waited for the first signs
of night, the shimmer of the evening stars.
Instead I heard the quiet groan of the doors open.
The cold air slipped in quickly, I began searching for Clara in the evening
light but she was no where to be found.
“Clara ?”, I called approaching the glasshouse doors, they opened instantly
Outside she was not 5 or 6 yards away from the glasshouse, walking at an even
daunting pace.
“Clara”, I called again still she did not answer. I chased after her calling
her name over and over again and still she continued to walk away.
I lost my footing and fell into the frosted ground, my muscles ached with a
sharp pain that I new to be all in my head. My voice found her name one last
time before breaking into a harsh dry sob.
The temperature quickly dropped, I shivered forcing myself from the ground.
“I promise, I promise”
Chapter 10
The warmth was missing; I had gladly let the cold air invade the house. The
furnace in the basement clanked loudly, overheated from want of coal and
firewood.
I had always avoided mirrors.
I could not, as some scholars believe, see mirrors as anything more than what
they really are. Mirrors cannot be eyes to a soul or true feeling they simple
showed you a reflection.
Still, when that reflection has not changed in year. . . it creates the thought
that perhaps a soul or true feeling have not changed either.
So, Mr. F’s whole
avoiding mirrors is because he is TIRED of not aging.
My eyes avoided the bruise just above my eye from where Lucie had struck me, I
took in my reflection fighting to keep composure. There were still many things
left to be done, dangerous things I had started.
My skin still burned with the memory of her touch.
I began to wonder how long I would have to wait ? Till my reflection
changed ? Would I even notice. I began to wonder if I knew how to become anyone
apart from who I was at that very moment, the person I had been for so many
years.
How long till I ceased to be the ghost of myself?
+++
Clara
I hated waking up in this room, staring at the black walls wondering what came
next. I wondered what day or month it was. Did any of that really matter ?
Somehow I was able to sympathize with Lucie, I began to want to understand her
utter devotion, in some way I wanted to be her. I guess in some odd way Lucie
and I were starting to become one.
He loved me and I was certain of that. It felt terribly selfish and that made
me happy.
Did Lucie know ? Of course.
How else to torture two people than to make their time together short and
unpredictable and in reality unforgiving ?
Asking him to save me was a selfish thing to make him promise.
I knew that but I needed him to save me, to choose me over Lucie.
I pressed my hand against the dark walls, seemingly lost in thought. What would
I find on the other side? That months or maybe years had passed?
But it was only a day.
Ms. 3 : OMG, Clara save yourself
LiLe : The only way Clara can save herself from Lucie is to kill herself and we wouldn’t want that would we. Also this serves to make the climax more interesting where he does decide to save Clara but in order to do it he has to . . . leave. . . her.
Bella (From Twlight) : *Glares*
LiLe : Well, it’s a good plot device.
The walls were still but there was something eerie about them, they were
breathing?
I opened the door and found Mr. Fierro standing on the other side. I offered a
weak smile and turned away.
“It’s snowing”, he said
“Is it?”, I looked at the covered windows, at least it was still winter
“Let’s take a walk”, it was much less than a suggestion
We stood outside, just under the arch stone awning watching the snow cover the
grass, it almost made the gates look pretty. I bundled in a hideous wool coat
to keep myself warm.
“Do you ever smile ?”, I asked
“I did. .. do, will one day again”, he assured me, “Ms. DeLune—“
“Call me Clara”, I said
“Clara”, he said, “Why is it that you care for me ?”
“How could I not”, was the most honest answer I could give.
Not sure what’s up
with this randomness. I guess I was trying to hard to push the Clierro. I think
at this point Roger is dead and his chimney is still burning.
The snow began to fall harder with a harsh wind. Out of the corner of my eyes I
saw little puffs of smoke rise in the air.
The smoke must have been coming from Grandpa’s chimney. During the cold weather
he would often light the fireplace to keep warm. It wasn't an electirc one like
my parents had and when I was younger my sisters and I were fascinated by
watching him gather logs and set them on fire.
I remembered when we tried to make smoke signals one day and us girls had
to run into the woods, not to far of course, till we could just see the smoke.
A little reminder that we weren't to far away, we would try to read the smoke
signals and see what message grandpa was trying to send.
By the time we returned Mother and father would have been back and we would
settle in the living room. In my memories it was perfect, wonderful and even
charming.
Almost a perfect family.
+2+
Clara
“Oh, sorry”, I almost giggled
The tea table tilted on two of its three legs before crashing to the floor, a
half empty tea cup and saucer rolled off and landed just under my heel.
Inside the house, the hot air rolled of the space heater and I could feel the
two glasses of wine I’d had began making me unsteady. I was far from
intoxicated but in slightly better spirits than I had been in a while.
Cause theses bitches be drunk.
I’m sorry I’ll stop
using slang inappropriately. I’m just trying to spice up the commentary.
There was no music and still we danced and even then not really, I couldn’t
watch my feet or where I was going, I couldn’t take my eyes away from Mr.
Fierro's, I didn't sense a bit of vulnerability or ardor when I looked into
them. Occasionally however there was a flicker of something.
I tried not to think about Lucie, where she was what she was doing. Or oddly
enough if she was here and I was too infatuated to notice.
“Careful, Ms. DeLune, he warned taking my hand
“Yes, Mr. Fierro”, I said
Flirty Flirty
I knocked over another table in the hall, an empty vase which made a pretty
sound when it hit the floor and shattered into pieces, I briefly wondered why I
had to be the one walking backwards.
Because he is taking
you upstairs that’s why.
Still he stepped closer and I stepped back till my ankle hit the smooth edge of
the stairs. I took one step up the first step, he took another, Each one
bringing us closer together and a little farther back.
Almost there
I felt the third step and reached for the banister my hand slipped over the
railing just as my shoes skidded over the steps.
C-Block
The railing and steps were suddenly wet, covered in a thick pool of dark red
blood, gently lapping down each step. The smell was suddenly defining and I
realized the left side of my body was covered in it from where I had slipped I
felt the red liquid pooling around my lips, I pursed them together as to not
let it run in my mouth.
Mr. Fierro had also slipped, the blood shone brilliantly next to his skin. His
eyes followed the top of the stairs where the it d continued to spill like
syrup.
“Where is it coming from ?”, It was a stupid question
I attempted to climb the stairs the blood preventing me, making the stairs
slick beneath my grasp.
“Stay here”, he ordered, still somewhat petrified from the blood staining his
clothes
“No, I have to know”
I held my breath and planted both hands firmly in the red pool, climbing slowly
to the top, my pants and shirt now soaked. I gripped onto the top step and
coached myself to open my eyes.
At the top of the landing I saw a hand, a leg a part. . . of a person I didn’t
recognize. Lying like broken toys in the hallway. I held in my scream when I
noticed the ring on the hand that had belonged to Gail Beck.
NIGHTMARE FUEL !
Crawling onto the landing I was suddenly tempted to touch the hand, but before
I could it moved, just slightly the fingers twitched. I jumped and with a
strange since of déjà vu fell down the stairs. I hit the bottom and stared at
the ceiling.
“Clara”, I heard Mr. Fierro call my name, but it was the least of my troubles.
He didn’t see what I saw
I saw my Grandmother, outside of myself
Just as I remembered her; her dark hair pulled into a lavish hairstyle Not a
single hair out of place, piercing eyes and a smile that made me feel
comforted. She was becoming more and more real and it frightened me.
What is it she had always told me ?
Never break her things, not in her house.
Lucie : Also, stop sleeping my husband
LiLe : ummmm
On that note in LL it’s mentioned that Lucie got mad when Clara broke her things so in the top of this section Clara knocks over a vase, so Lucie makes her slip on a dead body. That’s fair right ?
+++
Last Day of November
Mr. Fierro
“How was your holiday ?”,
He means thanksgiving
Martin opened the door to his home office and I considered how to answer his
question. I was beside myself trying to figure out why Martin had called me
here.
“. . .I realized I have a lot to be thankful for”
Martin sat behind his desk, he appeared nervous.
“This is difficult for me, Mr. Fierro. .. but you see my wife and I received
another ransom”
It was an almost surreal moment, perhaps a bit of misplaced irony. From his
desk Martin produced an almost identical letter to the ransom notes I had sent
him. Martin had not quite mastered his daughter’s handwriting but it was
impressive.
“Are you asking me for more money ? Again?, I questioned him my eyes never
leaving the fake ransom note.
So Martin created a
fake ransom note to show to Mr. F to get more money from him. I think it’s a
clever idea. Of course Mr. F knows it’s a fake note cause . . . . he’s the
ransomer
“A loan, in accordance to our agreement.”, he began to reason.
“I take it the first ransom did not go through ?”, I asked slightly out of
amusement knowing full well he had never paid the ransom with the money I
loaned him. He was however sporting a new watch.
“No”
A lie, he certainly believed himself to be playing with his daughter’s life on
a very thin line. I will never understand how she worshiped the man so. Martin
was clever I would always give him that
“On second thought, Mr. DeLune, I’ve changed my mind.”
“What do you mean ?”, he was flustered.
“It is all very risky Mr. DeLune, for all I know you have your daughter
secretly stored away somewhere and this is all a ruse to sipher money for your
failing family business. I’d prefer you pay me in full for the earlier loan and
we can put this behind us.”
He gritted his teeth, seemingly livid with frustration that his simple plan did
not work, if only he knew all the cards I held.
“You know very well that I’m not in the financial position to do such a thing”
“I suggest you give the situation serious thought or I doubt you will ever
climb out of debt.”
We sat in silence for some time.
“Perhaps”, I continued to be unusually long winded, “ the police should know
about this second ransom.
Mr. DeLune raced me to the door, nearly closing it on my hand.
“You will not say anything to anyone so help me God I will, I will”
“What exactly ? Kill me to keep me quiet.”
It was a threat, a challenge that Martin may have given serious thought to .
“If my daughters shows up dead it will be on your weigh heavy on your conscious
not mine.”, He opened the door,
“Prove it”
“Excuse me ?”
“If you believe yourself to be an honorable man and that your daughter is in
fact kidnapped then I will put up a 3 million dollar reward for her safe
return. If she is returned we will call it even. If not you will always be in
debt to me.”
LiLe : Something is
happening here but I can’t for the life of me remember what it is.
". . . and you have this in liquid ?"
"I do, and you should of course hold on to it. After all she is your
daughter."
"And this stays between you and I ?"
I nodded.
Lies, more lies more from me more than him, without hesitation we silently
shook on it.
Perhaps a few minutes or had I driven faster it would have been possible
to avoid what awaited.
+3+
Clara
There was something dark about the study, a feeling and emotion I wished I
could place inside my music. I suppose I never understood the appeal of having
a study, I did all my "studying”, in the real world, writing music on park
benches or in cafes.
Either way the study was an odd place to grieve her. I'm certain Mrs. Beck
had walked, clean and maybe even chatted here. I waited to feel sad to feel
something other than terror from her . . .accident.
I sat on the other side of the desk and looked over the titles on the book
case. To be honest they all seemed dreadfully boring. I turned my attention to
the desk. It was rather plain except for a few pens, open books with writing in
the margins and a calendar. Had I really been missing for nearly 3 months.
The drawers however were empty, but very heavy. I took out one of the drawers
and almost instantly the bottom fell out. A leather portfolio fell to the
ground scattering its contents.
A photo landed face up, I didn’t give it a second thought before I noticed it
was a picture of me. I didn’t recognize myself I flipped it over and in my own
forged handwriting what appeared to be a ransom message.
Right, so here Clara is getting closer to Mr. F and then she learns that he had been using her before to get revenge. Classic
I picked up the other papers. The letter I had written for my parents telling
them I was in Italy, copies of my signature, receipts for checks written out to
my father.
I had stared at the ransom letters for a long time trying to piece it together,
the money however spoke for itself.
I sat in the study waited for him to find me. I wanted answers.
Hours past before I heard the door open, at first Mr. Fierro did not sense
anything was wrong, then he saw the photos.
I hope she slaps him
again.
“What is this ?”, I asked
“Clara you have to understand”, he began to lecture me
“Understand what ? What have you done ?”
“I’ve done nothing”
“Have you been blackmailing my family? What does this mean”, The photo floated
to the ground.
“I cannot just leave this part of my life behind, perhaps when you have been
wronged you will understand”
“What does it mean ?”, I studied the word on the photograph
Ultio
“Revenge”, he said quietly
“Revenge ? Is that what this is about ? "
“How can you not see”, he continued, “Death would not be justice. Roger has had
a lifetime, death would be a reward. This is the only way, this is how it has
to be. He will be consumed wondering is she dead? Am I being haunted? He they
will wonder if I really died did I ever truly exists. ? How can I be truly
happy unless he suffers? “
“Happiness”, I scoffed. “Is that what this is about ?You have your life back
and still you cannot be happy, a beautiful garden a large fortune and still you
cannot be happy, you have my love and still you cannot find happiness ? How can
that be?”
He was speechless.
“I won’t let you do this”, I said,
“I can’t let you hurt my family. It was 50 very long years ago.”
“Do you find you have a choice in the matter, Ms. DeLune. Let me do this and we
will both have what we want. “
I stepped back
For a second I was filled with . . . rage. I wanted to do anything to stop him
from hurting my family but I was also afraid. I hated my naivety and
frailty.
I had always known deeply of his injustice. Did I think our love wouldn’t be
effected by his hatred for my family.
“You are simple, egotistical and arrogant”, I shouted.
“Did you know your father did not pay the first ransom. The money was very
tempting to him. What do you think he purchased that was more valuable
that your safety? Perhaps something for his son ?”
"Son ? what are you talking about ?"
"I suppose you will not longer be the youngest . . . I do wonder if he is
trying to replace"
He seemed uneasy about his last comment perhaps apologetic. A single tear fell
before I could stop it, I didn’t want to believe him but if anything he had
never lied to me.
"I can't let you do this"
“I’m afraid Ms. DeLune you will not be going anywhere." his words were
impeccably courteous
I knew this to be true.
“Lucie hates you”, I said, “If I’m your means to and end then you are hers.”
“I doubt you understand what your words mean.”
“I know my words are valuable and I will be careful not to waste them on you.
Perhaps you and Lucie deserve each other.”
II
December 18th
Now we are all caught up to the Prologue
The wine is bitter as are my memories of our ill fated argument.
Emile finds it difficult to address me; the kitchen has closed only a few
servers remain counting tips and casually smoking. Emile and I strolled out
quietly without notice; I stayed a few steps
Logic : LiLe this is so unrealistic
LiLe : What ?
Logic : People can’t smoke in bars
LiLe : Oh, I’m sure rich people can.
behind him. The rain and fog had cleared to a
crisp winter night..
“Why have you just now sought me out ?”, he asked
“I find it’s too late for me to turn back. Her love blinded me. As I acted out my
fate for Roger I had been blinded by one important aspect and for that I
am in desperate need for your help”
“Fierro, I won’t help you tear another human down.”
“I figured as much, which is why I did not expect you to come willingly. I’m
afraid you don’t have a choice, old friend.”
The feelings of guilt and betrayal were comforting and even welcoming as I
pressed the barrel of the unloaded sliver pistol into his back. I remained
calm knowing that this was in part to fulfill my promise to Ms. DeLune..
“What do you want from me.”, Emile asked his hands slightly raised as I lead
him to the car.
“I have always found you to be imaginative and insightful. I will need you to
help me.”
“Help you?”
“Yes, I’m going to kill my wife.”
So, Mr. F has been so busy plotting against the DeLune’s he forgot the bigger picture which is to KILL Lucie. 2 weeks after his fight with Clara he has decided to put it all aside and save her.