Secrets of Innocence

by V.

  Danny made his way through the crowd hoping to spot Ellie, but with no success. He was about to give up his quest when he spotted Robert standing in line at the kissing booth.

  “That figures,” he muttered.

  As expected, a long line had already formed around the kissing booth, and Robert was close to the front. He spotted Danny and waved him over.

  “Hey, c’mon man, get in line. Sue Ellen’s doing the kissing.”

  Danny approached him. “Have you seen Ellie?”

  “No. Did you catch what I said? Sue Ellen, man. C’mon.”

  “Be back in a while.” His eyes continued to scan the park.

  Robert threw up his arms in frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding!” Danny strode away from Robert and the booths, and around to the periphery of the picnic area. He spotted a teenage couple making out, the same two that Hugo had evicted earlier from the car. The girl leaned against a tree, her hands gently fondling her lover’s hair, while the young man pressed his body against hers, his hands stealing a touch of her breasts. Danny ogled at them for a moment until he noticed a man propped against another tree, cigarette in hand, sipping a beer, and eyeing him as he spied on the couple.

  When the man’s eyes met Danny’s, he smiled and raised his beer in a toast to the boy. Several yards behind the man, a Jeep sat in the pool of light provided by a nearby streetlamp.

  Danny smiled politely, turned away, and wandered back to the picnic area, waving hello to his friends and their families.

  With an air of defeat he returned to his table and sat down.

  Mrs. Foster snuck up, wrapped her arm over his shoulders, and nestled in next to him. “No luck?”

  Danny stiffened as her breast rubbed against his arm. “Huh?”

  “Didn’t find her?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Is she aware you’re waiting for her?”

  “No. She doesn’t give me the time of day. It’s the age problem, I guess.” Mrs. Foster leaned closer. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she said in a sultry voice. “The ‘age problem’ has a way of working itself out. Have you told her how you feel?”

  “Hah! Are you kidding? I can’t even talk to her. I can’t find words.” He turned toward Mrs. Foster, and his eyes darted down to her cleavage—her skin was smooth and shiny, her breasts full and luscious. He nervously cleared his throat and glanced around. Thankfully, his father was arguing with Andrew Foster and not looking in his direction at all.

  “Tell her anything that comes to your mind. Be yourself. Growing up isn’t any easier for girls. Make her relax.”

  “I’m the one who can’t relax. Not when I’m with her. Besides she—”

  Danny’s eyes widened, and a small gasp escaped his lips as Mrs. Foster slid her hand under the table and placed it gently on his leg.

  “She has a ‘so what’ attitude, right?”

  Danny’s heart pounded, and he struggled to keep his breath under control. “Sort of,” he managed to say at last, his voice catching between words.

  “That’s her cover.” She rubbed her hand along his thigh. “Trust yourself. Act like you always do, as you are right now. She’ll love it. I certainly do.”

  Andrew Foster rose to his feet and hoisted his glass of wine. “Everybody. Could I have your attention, please? I have an announcement to make.”

  Everyone around the table quieted down.

  “Thank you. I am proud to announce that I”—he paused and glanced around with a broad smile—“have been made”—he paused again and dragged the words out for emphasis—“senior partner in my law firm.”

  Everyone cheered, and most rose to their feet to toast the news, except for Hugo who offered a practiced smile.

  Mrs. Foster squeezed Danny’s leg and whispered in his ear. “Look who’s arrived.” She nodded across the park where Ellie strolled with her family. They were making their way to a table. “Go get her, tiger.”

  Before she finished, Danny had risen to his feet and headed off.

  The driver of the Jeep, still leaning against the tree, finished another beer and tossed the bottle into a nearby trash can as he noticed Danny hurrying to Ellie’s table. He turned his eyes toward Mrs. Foster for a moment, smiled to himself, and ambled a bit closer.

  Danny slowed his pace in an attempt to appear casual when he drew near the Millers’ picnic table. He took a deep breath and approached the family.

  “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Miller. How are you?”

  “Hello there, uh...” Mr. Miller failed to conjure up Danny’s name.

  “It’s Danny, Dad.” Ellie stood up.

  “Yes, of course, Danny. We’re fine. How are your parents? Are they here?”

  “My mom’s at her sister’s house helping her with the new baby. My dad’s over there, with the Fosters.” He stood in awkward silence, eyeing Ellie.

  The girl smiled at him and waited patiently, but he remained frozen and silent, looking at her. After a few seconds she sat down and turned her gaze toward the band.

  “Care to join us, Danny?” Mrs. Miller asked.

  “No, thanks, Mrs. Miller. I was wondering if, uh.. .well, if Ellie would... like to dance.”

  “Of course she would. C’mon, darling, get on out there. Danny’s waiting.”

  “Oh, Mom.”

  “Listen, sweetheart, it’s my fault we’re late getting here,” her father added. “You need to make up for lost time, girl. Go on.”

  “Dad.” Her cheeks turned bright pink.

  Unsure as to what was happening, Danny rocked in place, becoming more nervous by the second. “That’s okay,” he ventured. “Maybe later.”

  “Nonsense.” Mr. Miller patted Danny’s back. “She’s dying to dance with you. Been talking about it all afternoon. Girls, my boy, none can understand them.” He walked over to his daughter, pulled her out of her seat, and gave her hand to a stunned Danny who reluctantly took it, but remained motionless.

  Ellie yanked her hand away and walked off toward the dance platform. She climbed the steps and turned to wait for Danny. When he finally caught up, they stood face-to-face, motionless.

  “Well?”

  He swallowed hard. “Well, what?”

  “You asked to dance, didn’t you?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, sounding like he had woken from a dream. He offered Ellie his hand, gently pulled her closer, and they began to dance.

  “Hope you don’t believe my dad. I didn’t talk about you all afternoon. He’s like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “He exaggerates and makes things up.”

  “Oh.”

  Her proximity was intoxicating, and his palms began to sweat, so he released her and wiped his hands on his pants. She smiled and wiped hers on her dress.

  “Sorry, it’s hot here, isn’t it?”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  Unable to conjure anything to say, Danny slowly succumbed to his own nervousness. They swayed in silence.

  “Congratulations on winning the swim meet,” said Ellie with a disarming smile.

  Relieved to have a topic, he smiled back. “Hey, thanks. You were there?” “Yeah, I was there. Nice trophy. They say you have a whole bunch of them.” “A few,” he responded, embarrassed.

  Silence again. Danny desperately tried to come up with something clever to say, but the more he tried the more nervous he became, until he ended up treading on her toes.

  She did her best not to complain.

  “Sorry. Can we start again?”

  “I imagined that being such a good swimmer you’d be a great dancer.” “Yeah, well.. .Hey, it’s really hot. How about a soda?”

  “No, thanks.”

  By now Danny was in agony. They danced in silence until the music ended, then stood in the middle of the dance floor facing each other in silence. Danny frantically dried his palms on his pants.

  Lou Harrison, the school’s star athlete, emerged from the crowd and turned Ellie away from Danny. />
  “C’mon, you beauty. Let’s show this little sap how the big boys dance.” “Let go of me, Lou,” Ellie protested. “Just ’cause you’re a senior, it—” “Hush up, my beauty. You’ll love dancing with me, and you know it.” He adroitly spun her around, and she giggled.

  Standing awkwardly in the middle of the dance floor, visibly disappointed with himself and too embarrassed to move, Danny stared them down as they boogied away, laughing.

  Mrs. Foster stepped close, took his hand, and led him into the dance. She held him gently and placed his hand on her bare back. Immediately, he retrieved it, unsure what to do, but she took his hand once more and placed it against her back softly pressing it in place. She winked and smiled reassuringly at the boy. Visibly calmer, Danny smiled back.

  “How was it?” she whispered as she pulled him closer.

  “Awful.”

  “She needs dance lessons.”

  “You mean I do.”

  “Nonsense. You’re magnificent. Look at you now.”

  “It’s different with you.”

  Mrs. Foster smiled. “How about the conversation?”

  “What conversation?”

  “I’ll tell you what you should do. Next time, don’t try to impress her with clever topics or interesting conversation. Ask about her. Believe me, we girls love talking about ourselves.”

  Danny danced to the beat of the music, not once stepping on Mrs. Foster’s toes. As he finally relaxed, she pressed against him.

  A look of terror came over Danny when he felt his body react to hers. He tried to pull away before she noticed, but she held him fast and rubbed against him. He swallowed hard as beads of sweat collected above his lip, and his breathing quickened. She looked into his eyes and smiled.

  The song came to an end, and Danny turned to leave, but she held him back. The lights dimmed, and a slow ballad began to play. In no time the dance floor filled up, a mass of bodies swaying in unison to the music. Cuddled amid the crowd, Danny and Mrs. Foster danced in perfect unison. Suddenly the lights went out, and the park fell into darkness. The crowd protested loudly.

  “Stay calm, everybody,” announced the bandleader. “It’s just the old generator acting up. Lights will be back in no time. We’ll keep playing and you keep dancing.”

  Taking advantage of the dark and the concealment offered by the crowd, Mrs. Foster slid her hand behind his neck to force him toward her, and gently kissed his mouth. The boy’s attempt to resist was short lived, and he surrendered to the moment and all the sensations that came with it. The kiss lingered, her lips shifting against his, her tongue in search of his. Then, satisfied, she pulled away and smiled.

  The crowd cheered as the lights came back on.

  “You’re delicious, Danny Michaels.” She abruptly turned and walked away, leaving him alone in the middle of the thinning crowd. He searched the floor for Ellie but failed to find her.

  Instead, he spotted the Jeep driver, beer in hand, strolling conspicuously around the edge of the dance floor, his penetrating gaze fixed on Danny. Satisfied with having caught the boy’s eye, he winked and nodded.

  Danny looked away, confused, and made his way off the dance floor. As he emerged from the crowd, he turned back to find that the man’s eyes remained locked upon him.

  Disconcerted, the boy rushed away.

  “Isn’t it too much of a coincidence?” Sarah asked her husband as she poured wine into a couple of glasses. “All of a sudden everyone—well, except for the Jeep-driver character—has a name, and the boy’s called Danny.”

  Conrad stoked the fire, joined his wife on the sofa, scooped up his glass of wine, and sipped it. “Yes, but it could also be your mind playing tricks on you.”

  “Tricks?”

  “Well, maybe not tricks, more like a quirk. The hospital staff names our mystery man Daniel, and the very next installment of the movie tells you that the boy’s name is Danny.”

  She scowled and shook her head.

  “Like the doctor said, it could simply be your mind deciding to call him that because you heard the name earlier. You said Amaray wasn’t real, so it’s possible none of the names in the movie are real either.”

  “That could be.. .I suppose.”

  “It looks like it’s turning into a racy flick. That woman is something else.”

  “I’ll say. I’m glad the year is 1976; otherwise I’d worry that a young boy might be in danger.”

  “So, you’re pretty sure this all occurred in the past.”

  “I can’t imagine what else it could be. Why be so precise in all the sets, the clothing, and how they look?”

  “I wonder if the year 1976 has special significance.”

  “What’s the meaning of the whole story and all the characters? They’re so real that at times it’s as if I’m peeking into their actual lives.”

  “Well, that’s what movies are supposed to do—tell us the story about an important moment. Books should do that, too, and photographs as well, for that matter.”

  “What if the boy is related to our mystery man? Or better yet, what if he’s the mystery man at a younger age?”

  Conrad shrugged. “I wouldn’t make any assumptions. He could be either one, or he could be the boat salesman or the minister or the Jeep driver or none of them. It’s impossible to say.”

  “The boy is definitely the main character. He’s in every scene.”

  “Nothing is clear. I’m with Dr. Lawrence that you need to be careful regarding this business of Daniel telling you you’re the one. It’s asking too much of you. Don’t take the bait.”

  “Bait?”

  “Yeah, he believes, and wishes you to believe, that the feeling he has about you comes from somewhere in his past. But what if it turns out to be a false impression?”

  “Maybe he senses that I’m psychic.”

  “If that’s the case, time will tell. But for now, let’s take it one step at a time.”

  They sipped their wine and enjoyed the fire crackling before them. Sarah cuddled next to her husband. He placed his arm around her shoulders and held her tight.

  “It must be awful not to have any idea who you are,” Sarah whispered at last. “Yeah. Maybe as he gets settled away from the hospital, memories will start coming back to him. Doc mentioned that the trauma to his brain damaged the portion responsible for retrieving stored memories. Let’s hope that as the swelling goes down he’ll start remembering.”

  “The scary part is that they haven’t ruled out that the amnesia may be the result of psychological trauma and not the head injury. If this movie is about him, maybe something horrible will happen. That Mrs. Foster is repulsive. And that man spying on the young boy—”

  “There you go again. Don’t assume anything. If it’s psychological instead of physical, time will tell. Anyway, what Doc also said is that his loss of memory could be his way to protect himself from something that has already happened or from some impending threat. Hell, the man was beaten nearly to death. That’s bad enough.”

  After a deep sigh, Sarah looked up at Conrad. “What if he never recovers his memory?”

  “I hope that’s not the case. I wouldn’t like to have him dependent on us forever.”

  “That’s not likely to happen. It took endless cajoling from Elisabeth, the nurses, and even Dr. Lawrence for Daniel to finally agree to move into the room above the store.”

  “What finally got him to say yes?”

  “The fact that he’d be working. He absolutely refused to accept the room without giving something in return. He’s determined not to be a burden. He’ll do well by you.”

  “I like the fact that he had to be talked into it. Shows good character. Tom’s already got a list of things for him to do, and truth be told, he’s looking forward to having an assistant. Things have been hectic lately.”

  “I wonder how his list compares to Elisabeth’s.” Sarah chuckled. She sat forward on the sofa and turned toward her husband. “Did I tell you she’s putting her volun
teer work at the hospital on hold so she can care for Daniel?” Conrad laughed. “No, but it doesn’t surprise me. She’s quite taken with him. I hope she doesn’t get hurt. He could be married and have a family.” Sarah poured them both more wine then snuggled back into Conrad’s arms. “Now you’re the one making assumptions. I’m not sure if Elisabeth is attracted to him or simply likes a good mystery.”

  “I’d say a bit of both. Hey, that reminds me, Williams has been snooping around, and now he’s started on me.”

  “You? How did you find out?”

  “He’s been asking questions around town, from what I’m told. And voicing suspicion about the fact that we’ve opened up our home and the store to a total stranger.”

  “That’s nonsense. Everyone here respects you and—”

  “That may be, but don’t forget this is the Northwest. There’s a natural mistrust of strangers.”

  “But how did they find out what we’ve decided? It was only a few days ago that Doc told us Daniel was ready to be released. Then it took another couple of days to talk Daniel into accepting our offer—he only agreed yesterday morning.”

  “This sort of news travels fast. Don’t forget that what happened to him is far from common in these parts. Folks like to talk—especially with the Sheriff sniffing around and spreading innuendo.”

  Sarah sighed. “I suppose I can’t blame them. Most people wouldn’t do what we’ve done. We’re only in the middle of this because this blasted sixth sense of mine insists that I have to sort this out and help him. Hard to explain that to people, and even harder to live in the middle of it.” She kissed her husband. “Thanks for your patience, darling.” She stood and picked up the wine glasses. “C’mon, let’s have some dinner.”

  Conrad snagged the bottle of wine and followed her toward the dining room.

  “Sarah,” he said, “your sixth sense is nothing to sneer at. You’ve been given a precious gift that—I will admit—at times is scary and confusing, but always comes through in the end.”

  Sarah placed the glasses on the table and turned to her husband. “Are you worried about Daniel? I mean worried that he might do something violent or—”

  “No.” Conrad put down the wine bottle and stroked his wife’s arm. “He doesn’t strike me as the violent type. But I suspect folks around here probably are worried about that. I imagine that lots of what-ifs are floating around. There’s so much speculation surrounding him. People wonder who attacked him, and why, and will they come back to finish the job. Things like this don’t