Ben Archer

by Rae Knightly

  “Our scouts found Jack Anderson’s body along the Inca Trail,” Amaru explained. “He was reported missing two days ago after he went trekking on his own. Our scouts found his remains at the bottom of the mountainside. We have not yet informed authorities that we have found him. Therefore, his passport will serve you for the next twenty-four hours. That is enough to get you back to Canada. But by tomorrow afternoon, we will be returning this poor man’s body to his family.”

  The visitor nodded. “Yes, of course. I understand.” He stared at Amaru, then said with sincerity, “Gracias[3], Amaru.”

  Amaru dismissed his thanks, continuing, “With luck, you will pass as Jack Anderson when you reach airport security.” The old man dug into his poncho again and pulled out a beige fur hat with ear flaps so that the visitor could cover his unnaturally white hair. “Let us hope that this will do.”

  The visitor stared at his Aymara friend, sensing that he was not happy with the situation. “Amaru, my friend, rest assured that when the time comes, I will speak a good word for you.”

  Amaru glanced away hastily, clearly uncomfortable with the visitor’s words.

  “What is it?” the white-haired man asked, frowning.

  Taking courage, Amaru said, “You are the Observer. Your mission is to be neutral and report the facts.” He paused. “But dark forces are at work. Your companions have perished. Your daughter is lost, and you barely survived yourself. We fear that you are no longer neutral, that your judgment has been clouded.”

  The visitor put up a hand. “You said ‘we’…”

  Amaru stared at him unhappily, knowing that he had to finish now that he had started speaking his mind. “Yes. I speak for all the Wise Ones.” He paused before adding carefully, “We have given you the information you came for, as is customary. It is not our place to judge. But word is spreading that you have already made up your mind about your mission. The word is that your loss has blinded you.”

  The visitor replied sternly, “You cannot know my mind. I have made no decision, and I have yet to meet two Wise Ones.”

  Amaru bowed respectfully. “We understand. There is time yet.” He led the visitor down the perfectly polished steps of the temple, away from a group of tourists who had appeared on the archeological site. “No matter,” he continued. “What I meant to say is that I do not need you to put in a good word for me. I do not wish to leave this place. I have a wife, many children and grandchildren. We have wood for the fire, our llamas for warm fur and the most beautiful sunrises and sunsets on this planet. We could ask for nothing more.”

  The tall visitor stared at the old man in disbelief as they walked along the temple walls. After a long silence, he placed a firm hand on Amaru’s shoulder, saying, “Perhaps you are wiser than the wisest, Amaru. Thank you for speaking your mind. I do not understand your wish, but I will respect it. When the time comes, rest assured that your name will not be mentioned. You will remain on this planet.” He paused, before adding explicitly, “For better or for worse.”

  Amaru was visibly relieved. He smiled his biggest smile and said, “Come, then, now that that is settled, we must get you on your way.”

  Before them lay the Akapana pyramid, where a group of Aymara men dressed in red ponchos and colourfully knitted caps with earflaps were waiting for them. When they approached, the group of men bowed their heads, saying in greeting, “Suma urukiya, Mesmo.”

  ***

  When Ben got up the next morning, he showered hurriedly and glanced out his bedroom window while dressing. Next to his grandfather’s house lay a field of browning corn crops, bordered by a line of trees and shrubs. Beyond that lay the famous field where The Cosmic Fall had occurred. Even though branches hampered the view, he could tell that the area was still sealed off by yellow tape to warn trespassers, though some of it had come loose and was flapping in the wind.

  Higher up the hillside and overlooking part of the field, was Mr. Victor Hayward’s modern, West-Coast-styled dwelling. Grampa’s neighbour was a wealthy man who owned his own airline company, and this house was only one of his many different properties across the country. People in town said he was a big player in the Alberta oil sands, which meant he was away often.

  Ben sighed and stroked Tike’s back. He could hear his mother bustling in the kitchen, so he clambered down the stairs to join her. Tike did not follow him, preferring to sniff intently at a spot by the window.

  The boy found his mother throwing out smelly items from the fridge. The kitchen door was wide open, letting in fresh air.

  “Morning, Ben. I guess we’ll head out right away. The fridge and the pantry are empty. We’ll find some breakfast at the hospital.”

  Ben nodded as he finished putting on his jumper. “I wonder where Grampa has been all this time,” he said, noticing how the house had an abandoned feeling to it.

  “Yes,” Laura agreed, clearly unhappy and worried. “Let’s hope we get some answers soon.”

  They argued about whether to leave Tike out in the backyard while they were at the hospital. Ben refused to leave his four-legged friend behind, but Laura convinced him that Tike would be more comfortable at the house since the hospital did not allow pets inside. Ben reluctantly agreed, then hurriedly left so he wouldn’t have to look at Tike’s pleading eyes.

  ***

  Twenty minutes later they had reached the hospital again, where they found things unchanged. Grampa was still stable and unresponsive. They hung around in his room; Laura sat by his bed and stroked his hand, Ben read magazines and switched through TV channels without really paying much attention. Looking for a distraction, Ben ended up going down to the gift shop while Laura fell asleep on a chair in the waiting area.

  No sooner had she dozed off, when a nurse touched her shoulder. “He’s awake,” she announced.

  Laura sprang up and hurried to the room, where she found her father with his eyes open.

  She rushed to his side, relieved. “Dad!”

  The nurse removed his oxygen mask before checking his vital signs. “Take it easy on him,” she advised. “He still needs lots of rest.” Then she left quietly.

  Laura took her father’s hand. “Dad? It’s Laura.”

  Her father’s eyes focused, creasing into a smile. “Honeybee…” he began, his voice frail.

  Laura’s chin wavered at hearing her nickname, but she pulled herself together and shushed him. “Stay calm, Daddy. You suffered a heart attack. You’re at the Chilliwack General Hospital”

  She saw him frown worriedly for the briefest moment. Then he closed his eyes as if needing time to accept the news. When he opened them again, he asked unexpectedly, “How come you’re not angry at me?”

  Laura suppressed a nervous burst of laughter. She recognized her Dad’s sense of humour. "Oh, Daddy," she said with fake anger. “I’m furious at you!”

  Ryan relaxed, forcing a small smile. “Oh, good,” he breathed. “I was confused there for a minute.”

  Laura couldn’t keep up the pretense. Her face crumpled. “I missed you so much!”

  Ryan’s smile faded. “Me, too, Honeybee.” He tapped her hand reassuringly. He scanned the room with his eyes. “Where’s Ben?”

  “He’ll be up in a minute. I sent him to the gift shop to keep his mind busy. He becomes restless when Tike’s not with him.”

  “Huh!” Ryan said weakly. “So he’s still got that yapping scoundrel?”

  Laura didn’t answer. Instead, she said, “He’s missed you, too, you know.”

  Ryan frowned, then responded with a twinkle in his eye, “The yapping scoundrel misses me?”

  Laura smiled a watery smile. “No, silly, I meant Ben. He’s missed you so much. We’ve been worried sick about you! I couldn’t find you anywhere!” She broke off, her words caught in her throat. “Now is not the time, but when you feel up to it, we need to talk about what happened.”

  Ryan had become serious, the cheeky twinkle in his eye fading as he spoke. “I need to talk to you, too, Honeybee.”<
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  “Not now, Daddy. You need to get better first. The nurse said you need to rest. It can wait until you feel stronger.”

  Ryan shook his head and wanted to speak, but a hissing cough left his cracked lips instead. Laura helped him drink sips of water from a plastic cup. “Listen to me now,” he began again. “Remember that notary on Knight Road?” When she nodded, he said, “He has my will.”

  Laura opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her. “I'm leaving the house to Benjamin.” Laura gaped, so he went on quickly. “No, listen! I know you don't want to live out there, but you can rent the place. You'll get good money from it. It will keep you afloat while you live in Vancouver. You will be the custodian of the house until Ben turns eighteen. Then he will decide what to do with it. He can sell it or live in it. I don't care. He will decide.”

  “Dad,” Laura jumped in. “I had to drag Ben to the house last night. He’s refused to go back in all these weeks because…” She stopped.

  “…he’s afraid,” Ryan finished.

  Laura nodded, glad they were on the same page. “He’s terrified,” she confirmed. She hesitated, but the burning question left her lips before she could help herself. “Why is he terrified, Dad?”

  He would not meet her eyes. There was a long silence before he asked, “Do you two still fight?”

  She sighed, looking away, frustrated that he was changing the subject.

  Ryan pushed on. “You shouldn’t take it out on him, you know, just because he has his father's looks.” Laura glared at him, but Ryan continued. “He's a lot more like you than you know. All you see in him are his father's handsome face, brown hair and eyes, but inside...inside he's just like you, strong and stubborn and witty all at the same time. You should spend more time with him. He can be a lot of fun, believe me!” He let his words sink in, before adding, “I want you to take the boy on a long vacation, somewhere far away. Don't fuss about expenses! I'm leaving you a good sum of money, too.”

  “Dad!” she exclaimed, truly offended this time.

  “Don’t interrupt me, young lady!” Ryan snapped. “You get that boy away from here! And don’t give me that excuse again that you have to work. You’ll manage to make ends meet, I promise you. Take that boy on a trip and get to know him. He needs you!”

  Laura couldn't face him. Too much anger boiled inside. She was the one who had planned on giving him a piece of her mind, yet somehow the tables had turned, and now he was the one lecturing her. “He needs you, too, you know!” she retorted. “You have no idea what we've been through! The nightmares, the long nights watching over him while he shook with fever! I had no idea how to deal with it because I had no idea what had happened! Yes, I understand that some freakish meteorite landed in your backyard and that it's a crazy thing to wrap your head around, but what was I supposed to do? How the heck was I supposed to talk to him about a thing like that?”

  She was sobbing again, and it took all her willpower to whisper, “Where were you? Why didn’t you call?” She barely realized he was squeezing her hand, inviting her to look at the door.

  She found Ben standing there awkwardly.

  Laura, caught off guard, raised her hand to her mouth. Her breath started coming in short gasps. Nervously, she reached for her handbag and took a couple of deep breaths from the asthma inhaler.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered sincerely, before walking out.

  ***

  Ben felt awkward being in the room alone with his grandfather, perhaps because he barely recognized the man who, not so long ago, had seemed like a sturdy oak, with his booming voice and roars of laughter. Now he was pale and thin, a shadow of who he had once been. Or perhaps it was the invisible wall of silence that had built up between them since his absence.

  It was Ryan who spoke first. “I see your Mom found you ok…”

  Ben knew he was referring to the day after The Cosmic Fall, when his mother had found him unconscious under a tree. He nodded.

  Ryan’s face relaxed. “Good, good,” he said half to himself. The old man cleared his throat.

  He’s as uncomfortable as I am! Ben felt a pang of emotion at this realization.

  “Are you studying hard, boy? Are you keeping up your grades?”

  Ben nodded again briefly.

  I don’t want to talk about school grades.

  Ryan repeated, “Good, good. Your mother tells me you’re staying at the house?”

  Once more, Ben nodded, staring down at his feet.

  “Look at me, Potatohead,” his Grampa ordered, using the nickname he had for his grandson. “She says you don’t like it there anymore…” Since Ben continued to study the patterns on the floor, Grampa added softly, “…because of the nightmares.”

  This time Ben’s head shot up, his eyes wide.

  “Yeah…” Grampa acquiesced, before adding quietly, “I get them, too.”

  Ben went to stand by his grandfather’s bedside. “You…you get them, too?” he asked shakily. “What do they mean? The nightmares? I can’t remember anything. The doctor says I have amnesia.”

  Grampa studied the twelve-year-old intently. “Do you know what amnesia is, son? It’s the brain’s ability to protect you from very disturbing memories. It keeps you sane. Have you ever thought that, perhaps, it was a good thing you have amnesia, and that, for your own sanity, it should stay that way?”

  Ben stared at him, stunned. Whatever he had expected from his grandfather, this was not it. Somehow he had hoped for an explanation. He felt terribly deceived. “How can you say such a thing, Grampa? You're supposed to help me remember! So I can heal!”

  To his bewilderment, his grandfather’s lower lip began to tremble. The words came out with difficulty as he sobbed. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Ben.”

  “What do you mean, Grampa?” Ben asked quickly. “Sorry…what…happened?”

  Grampa wheezed, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.”

  Ben didn’t know what his grandfather was apologizing for, but he was only too aware of the heart monitor that beeped unevenly. He took his grandfather’s hand firmly. “It’s ok, Grampa. It wasn’t your fault.”

  Ryan nodded gratefully, a heavy weight visibly lifting from his heart. His hand clenched painfully around Ben’s own as he gasped for air.

  Two nurses appeared and rushed around the bed.

  “You’ll have to wait outside, son,” one of them said urgently.

  “Ben!” Grampa gasped. He was struggling to speak now. A nurse put a firm hand on Ben's shoulder, but he shook her off. He bent down and put his ear close to Grampa's mouth.

  Grampa breathed, “If…danger…find…Mesmo!”

  Mesmo.

  The name echoed in Ben’s mind.

  Ryan Archer sank into the pillows as a nurse placed the oxygen mask on his face again. Ben held onto his grandfather's hand, his eyes streaming with tears. “I love you, Grampa!” He could see Grampa's watery eyes returning the words as the nurse led him away.

  Laura ran down the corridor, closely followed by a doctor who rushed into the room without saying a word, leaving them both stranded and huddling together.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Twisted Eyes

  Ben paced the corridor, throwing sideway glances at his mother. Laura’s brow was creased over her empty gaze as she bit her nails. He couldn’t bear to watch her anguished face, so instead he followed the hands of the clock on the wall as they ticked away the minutes.

  At last, the doctor came out to tell them that Mr. Archer was stable again. From what he understood, he said, the family had not seen each other in a while, so he cautioned them not to bring up too many strong emotions at this stage. He would reevaluate the patient’s health in the morning.

  Ben drew a deep breath, yet felt helpless as to what to do next. Waiting and doing nothing was nerve wracking, so his mother took him for dinner at the hospital cafeteria. He wasn’t hungry, but it took his mind off things for a while.

  They hung around f
or several more hours in the waiting room, until a nurse went to check on Grampa and informed them that nothing had changed.

  By then it was one o’clock in the morning. Most of the hospital was dark and the corridors empty. When Laura suggested they get some rest at the house, Ben didn’t even protest. He felt like he had spent the entire day on an emotional roller-coaster. Laura put her arm around his shoulder as they slowly headed for the exit.

  A bald doctor in a white coat brushed past them. Ben caught the man’s honey-brown eyes briefly as he moved away to let the doctor through.

  Twisted eyes…

  Something unpleasant tugged at the back of Ben’s mind. But the moment vanished as soon as they stepped through the hospital doors into fresh air and he remembered that Tike was waiting for him.

  When they reached Grampa’s house, Ben hugged his four-legged friend happily. Tike licked the boy’s face and wagged his tail excitedly. As boy and dog headed upstairs, Ben realized he had left the watch Grampa had given him on his bedside table. He vowed to put it on again as soon as he went to bed.

  ***

  The bald doctor in the white coat followed the directions to the Coronary Care Unit. Once there, he picked up a clipboard containing patient information that was placed on top of the reception desk, without addressing the two nurses who chatted at the far end. He saw several screens behind the desk, some showing images from cameras laid out in the hospital corridors, while others monitored patients’ status. He made sure the nurses were still talking before reaching over to touch the screens, which immediately turned to static. Satisfied, the bald man headed down the corridor and entered a room.

  Ryan Archer rested in the dim light, his heart beating regularly.

  The doctor closed the door, then locked it.

  Ryan’s voice sounded frail in the silence. “Who’s there?”

  The doctor walked to the heart monitor, then followed the IV line from the intravenous pump to Ryan’s arm with the tip of his fingers.