CHAPTER FIFTEEN
LeCarre quickly ran to my side to study the state of my father who, for the most part, seemed out for the count. Lathon made a point to go straight for Desmond who still had not gotten up from the fight. The dream chaser noticed he was the only one left and grinned pleadingly at Lathon.
Always a man of few words, Desmond said, “Truce?”
Lathon tilted his head, probably contemplating whether or not to snap Desmond’s neck but released him after all, “For now.”
Desmond thanked his lucky stars and ran out to Main Street. Surprised, I looked at Lathon but he shrugged his shoulders saying, “He will not be able to do much without Davison who is sleeping safe and sound in Oblivion. Likewise, there are dead bodies outside in the alleyway that may need to be dealt with. A call to your police would be in order.”
He joined LeCarre and I around my father. I was speechless. I could have gotten myself killed and put the whole world in danger if it had not worked. My forehead still ached from when I planted it into his chest.
A loud scream resounded from behind me. I jumped around and found Martina alive and awake. She said, “Is he ok? What’s happened to him?”
I could not believe she had no idea what had happened. Was her memory wiped? Lathon realized she was going to go walk over to our direction and vanished.
Martina put her hand on my shoulder, “What happened? Do I need to call the police?” She turned her attention to LeCarre, “Did you do this to this poor man, you big bully?”
LeCarre chose to play along, “We were having a friendly debate about the state of the union and you know how those things go.”
I held my breath as Martina contemplated the thought. She rolled her eyes back and forth like she was calculating sums and then looked back at us when she came up with her answer. She said, “Yeah those can get heated. Well, I will go get him some ice. Just to think, though, he has been missing from his family and he comes here to start petty fights over politics. He is just like every other man in this country. At least he is home, Alan. Right?”
I tried my best to put on a convincing smile, “Of course.”
“Good,” she said. She went off into the back kitchen to get some ice. LeCarre flicked his hand in her direction and the kitchen door locked itself.
“Ok,” he said, “We are going to have to find a way to wipe his memory in order to prevent future mishaps.”
“Wipe his memory? All of his memory?”
LeCarre said, “As long as he remembers his past, he is going to bend the universe at his will. You may hold a blind spot for your father, but I do not.”
I watched my father. He seemed so peaceful. Nothing could bother him in his state. I said, “Would he forget my Mom and I?”
LeCarre and Lathon exchanged glances before LeCarre said; “We will cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, we need to find a memory stone.”
My mind kept zoning in on the stone that Darius brought into our house when he was visiting for dinner. I wondered what his true motivations were. I hardly knew him before he died. I said, “There is one at my house.”
LeCarre shook his head, “I’m not going to ask. It is a touch problematic for us to enter your home, Alan. This might be on you. Are you up for it?”
The answer wouldn’t come. My throat dried up with all of my nervous energy.
“You are our only chance. As long as he remembers his past, we are all in danger,” LeCarre pleaded.
I mulled over the idea for a few seconds, but something kept furiously scratching at the back of my mind, “What did my dad mean?”
“Excuse me?” Lathon said.
“The thing that was so terrible that the whole world is at stake? He said the Silhouettes were caged because they were making hybrids. They were kidnapping children. It is why we are in our predicament, isn’t it?”
Lathon motioned for LeCarre to answer the question, but it never seemed to arrive.
I stamped my foot as hard as I could against the wooden floor, “WHY WON’T YOU TELL ME? Every time I ask you a freaking question, all I get is a tune in next time or a check back later. Is that a Silhouette thing? DO THEY NOT ANSWER SIMPLE QUESTIONS ON DRAIO?”
Lathon floated towards me and hunched down to my level. He spoke calmly, “Because it is not our place to reveal anything about what happened at that time. It does you no good to open every locked door. It would only make things worse and we cannot afford that to happen. We need everyone on deck, as they say.”
“You can’t brush something like that off. It isn’t like I just asked you why you blew my candles out when I was six—never mind that. What happened on Draio and why does it involve me?”
LeCarre tried to calm me down, “Alan—”
“No. I am not going another step with you until you tell me the truth.”
“Alan, if you will trust me, I promise I will sit you down and explain everything.”
I hated having secrets kept from me, but I had to do everything in my power to resolve the crisis. I said, “Fine, I’ll do it,” and started to wake Dad up so we could go home. LeCarre waved his hands, making the few broken chairs and tables stitch themselves back together and land in their proper places. He unlatched the door that was locking Martina in the kitchen.
She came out with a bucket of ice and a rag, saying, “I really got to fix that thing. I could’ve been locked in there forever. So, how’d he fall?”
Lathon’s body faded and LeCarre gave me a nod to insure I knew what I was meant to do. I nodded back and placed the ice-filled rag Martina gave me on my Dad’s forehead. The two Silhouettes left the café, waving their hands over the heads of the customers who entered. They couldn’t be less knowledgeable about the unconscious man on the floor. They, like Martina, appeared to have no idea what had happened. It was like the Silhouettes had wiped their memories.
Martina left me with my father and smiled, saying, “He will come around.” She took her place at the front door and assured everyone that business would start up as soon as the staff came back.
I felt my Dad’s head start to shift under the cold rag. His eyes fluttered open. Cautiously I stepped away, afraid of what I might find. He didn’t address me as he stood up. He dusted off his shirt and finally set his eyes on me.
“Alan?” he said.
“Dad?”
He tensed his shoulders like all of the pain from the fall came crawling back. He laughed at himself and said, “I am going to have learn to control myself when I get excited, eh?”
He motioned for me to leave the café, and I lead the way. He gave me a friendly smile like he had not just murdered Davison. Maybe the bump on the head was enough. I didn’t think we would have to use the memory stone, but I knew what I had to do.
Outside the café, Dad said, “I think we have seen enough of Main Street for one day. I hope you will not be too offended if we go back to be with your mom?”
“No, I think that will be alright. I am a little tired anyways.”
The Silhouette (Alan Quinn and the Second Lifes) Page 21
