by Alona Jarden
"I am placing a piece of paper on your lap. Don’t worry, I won't go beyond the rules you defined for me. The contact you'll feel is a piece of paper resting on your knees, not me, okay?" It was important for me to control her reactions.
"Come on, Andrew, I'm getting impatient."
"If so, now, Kate. Open your eyes," I said after making sure that the drawing she had been talking about was the first thing she'd see.
Up to that point, everything had gone according to my plan, and perhaps even too accurately and too smoothly.
Katarina's eyes opened and immediately widened.
Her delicate fingers gripped the drawing and her chest rose and fell rapidly, attesting to her excitement.
I sat opposite her, just as I had done a long time ago, and wondered what was going through her mind.
"Do you recognize this drawing, Kate?"
"Yes. It's the one I drew when I was a little girl."
"What is it? What did you draw?"
"This is the cabin. The dream hut where I was supposed to live with my husband when I grew up."
"Exactly. That cabin was your childhood dream, Kate, and although I didn’t fulfill any of my dreams, as I said before, I fulfilled one of yours."
"How exactly did you..." Her attempt at a witty remark was interrupted mid-sentence as she raised her stunned gaze from the sketch she held and looked around at my meticulous reconstruction of it.
Chapter 12
Kate
His two-week program suddenly seemed unnecessary.
He'd claimed that I was Katarina and that he used to have a respectable place in my life. He'd insisted that I lacked important bits of information which would change my perception of reality as I remembered it. But he had been wrong.
I hadn’t needed two weeks for that. All I’d needed was one peek at the way he used to look at me to bring back all my feelings for him.
"Andrew, you were..." I needed to pause before I continued. "All of a sudden, I know what you were for me, but it's hard to put it in words."
"Not for me, Kate. I know exactly how to explain that you were my whole world and that, when you disappeared, I was left all alone in it."
"I still don’t remember how I felt. Does that makes sense? Is it normal that I know something happened for sure without remembering it?"
"What does it matter if it makes sense or not, Kate? Don’t fight what you discover in our sessions. Don’t try to solve the puzzle all at once because, as of now, you don’t have all the necessary pieces to form a full picture."
"Why don’t you just give them to me?"
"I will, once I'm sure you can handle it."
His vanity began to annoy me and the understanding that he hadn’t lied and that he knew me better than I knew myself threatened to drive me out of my mind.
I didn’t understand why, but I was fighting an urge to be better and smarter than him. It was as if I had always been in a competition with him, just as he managed to intrigue me, even as the barista with the beautiful eyes from Starbucks.
"I thought for sure you'd grow up to be a much better looking man," I teased him and stretched a malicious smile on my face.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, wicked witch, but if we are being honest about that matter, I also admit that you are not the huge success I thought I'd see, in regards to appearance. I must say I expected more from you."
"You wish!" I chuckled. "I'm drop-dead gorgeous and we both know it."
Silence was my enemy, so I didn’t allow it to penetrate the gap between us for too long. Whenever I couldn’t find the words or he refused to answer one of my questions, more and more question marks were left hanging loose in my head and the level of anxiety in my body went up.
"So you're Andrew." I wondered if it would feel any different when I called him by his name, now that I had remembered very well how he was my best friend a long time ago.
"Yes, that's me. And you were Katarina."
"Where were you? Where did you disappear to?"
"You're the one who left, Kate, not me."
"In that case, where did I disappear to?"
"You were taken."
"Taken? By whom? Don’t you mean adopted?"
"I wish I could share all the answers with you but, unfortunately, I know better. I know that if I had kidnapped you and told you that I was your childhood friend, that you hadn’t been adopted at the age of six months old and that your name wasn’t Kate, you would have probably screamed hysterically and tried to escape at the first chance you got. It was important that you'd listen to me and open yourself to the possibility that there might be something to my words, as you're doing right now."
"I have to admit, there's something to your words." I stuck my tongue out at him and was amazed at myself for doing so.
"You haven’t changed much, Kate. You were, and still are, unbearable."
"Andrew?"
"Yes?"
"What was that house I saw? Was it a foster family? It didn’t look like an orphanage."
"I can't say. Not yet..."
"Did we grow up there together? Why didn’t you keep in touch with me after I was adopted? How old was I really at the time we parted? Who adopted me? What happened to my birth parents?" I interrupted his reply with a series of questions, since I didn’t need it anymore.
I went on and poured all my queries out into the living room of my dream vacation house, feeling that, if I stopped, even if just to let him supply me with an answer, I would forget what I wanted to find out. Although I guessed he would claim that it wasn’t the right time to expose those pieces of information to me, I decided to leave those questions out in the air, hoping they couldn’t be ignored.
Andrew just sat there and smiled at me.
He wasn’t moved by anything I asked and suddenly I remembered so clearly how he had never taken me too seriously.
"Come." He stood up and held out his hand, inviting me to look around the cabin I had forgotten was a childhood dream of mine. "I'm sure there will be enough time to answer all your questions, Katarina."
"I think I still prefer you calling me Kate."
"Why would you insist on something that you already know is wrong?"
"I don’t know what's right or wrong, Andrew. At this point, I don’t know if you're the one who makes me see days that never happened or if the days that were engraved in my memory are the ones that were never real."
"Do you even remember a time when you were Katarina?"
"No," I replied, and I wasn’t lying. I didn’t see any need to pretend or to play games with him anymore. "I know for certain that there were beautiful and happy days when I was called Katarina, but I still can't remember them. I can't seem to feel things from my heart. How is that even possible?"
"And me? Do you remember me?"
"I do," a natural smile snuck onto my face.
"Do you remember the feelings you had for me?"
"I think so." My smile grew wider.
"I loved you, Kate, but I loved who you were when you were called Katarina. Even though I've been following you around for the last year or so and I know that your name today is Kate, for me, you'll always be Katarina."
"Oh, wait a minute," suddenly a vivid memory of a conversation I'd had with him burst into my consciousness. "I think I refused to marry you." He rolled out laughing.
"At which one of the times I proposed? It happened about three times a week." I shared in his laughter and let him hold my hand and lead me through the cabin.
He explained with exaggerated enthusiasm the great effort that the design of each area took from him, and even showed me the drawings he had kept all those years in his shoebox, which where his inspiration or, rather, guidance for the interior design of the cabin.
"The only room that isn’t an exact replica of your instructions is the room I tied you up in."
"I could see that in seconds. It lacks the touch of a woman."
"You're absolutely correct." He poured whiskey in two
glasses and handed me one of them. "If you find someone who can possibly help me with that task, I would appreciate it if you’d let me know."
"You're an idiot."
"An idiot that missed you." He sent me a provocative smile and went out onto the porch.
Perhaps, if he had taken me there earlier, I wouldn’t have needed to participate in the second session. Maybe if I’d seen the cabin from that angle on the day he’d brought me there, the memory of it would have returned in a second, because there was no chance I wouldn’t have identified that balcony.
On one of the rocking chairs waiting for us there was a drawing and I recognized it almost immediately as one of mine. The whole situation began to weigh on me and each detail that returned to my mind made it all become intriguing, but frightening.
I took the sketch and, without any problems, I remembered the day I had drawn it. Long ago, when I was a little girl...
"I wasn’t adopted when I was six months old, was I?"
"No, you weren’t."
"So how old was I?"
"I'm not sure if I can answer that question, Kate."
"Because you don’t know?"
"Oh, I know. I know everything, but that question contains a contradiction to the reality that’s been a solid basis for you. I think you need to hold on to it for now."
"You're underestimating me, Andrew. Over two days you’ve turned my world upside down and now you decide to take things at your painfully slow pace?" I sat down in one of the chairs. "You think I'm weak and delicate and that's really insulting." I wondered if I could make him feel guilty enough to give me more details.
I wanted to know if, indeed, I had no reason to fear him or if I had been wrong and should have taken advantage of my arms being freed to escape.
One thing was clear to me. I’d either misjudged my father or I’d misjudged Andrew and, since I was in his possession and under his control, I had no choice but to suspect him first.
"Don’t you have something to say? I just said that I was insulted by you."
"When I believe that your words are honest and from the heart, I will respond to them accordingly. But I'm not buying your offended act, Kate."
"Are you accusing me of not being true with you?"
"I'm saying that for the past two days you basically called me a liar, repeatedly insulted my amigo, and, even now, when you’ve remembered who I am, I haven’t heard a single apology from you."
"I'm sorry," I smiled and stared flirtatiously into his green eyes.
"Why are you apologizing to me? I'm not the one who got offended. Unlike you, I don’t play or pretend to be hurt."
"But you just said that... What?"
"I said you insulted my amigo, not me. That’s who you need to send your apologies to."
"Sorry, amigo," I glanced down at his crotch and quickly removed my eyes from it.
"No, no, no" he waved his hands. "I don’t know how they raised you here in the United States, but in Costa Rica, an insult to a man's amigo is a serious crime. I suggest you take a deep breath and find the exact words you want to tell him in order for him to forgive you."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Oh, it's not me." He smiled. "It's my amigo."
"You and your lame ass amigo will have to cope with..."
"Oh, no," he interrupted, "I feel his anger building up, Kate. I know him. If you continue like this, he will never forgive you."
"Andrew," I sipped the last of the whiskey left in my glass and decided to test if I could comfortably believe his words, "can you and your shriveled amigo please re-fill my glass?"
I looked at his back, disappearing into the cabin and was stunned. I couldn’t believe he didn’t feel the need to tell or ask me to stay there and just took the glass from my hands and went back into the living room, as if my presence there was taken for granted, even though it shouldn’t have been so.
To tell the truth, from the moment I realized I'd been kidnapped, I was planning to cooperate with him in the hopes that a moment like that would present itself. A moment when I could escape, and just when it was upon me, I wondered if I really wanted to run away and lose an opportunity to get some true answers to questions that would never leave my mind.
"Earlier you complained that there was no ice, should I put some in now for you?" he shouted from within the living room and I felt that he took his time on purpose.
"Yes, I'd love some ice, thank you." I frowned with the sensation of being tested.
"Fine, I'm just finishing up here and I'll be right back."
The situation felt very strange to me and I decided that I had no business sitting there and waiting for him to return.
In a matter of seconds, my practical mind, which usually dominated me, overcame the whispers of my heart. I stood up and let my feet carry me as deep as they could into the forest.
I ran and fell, got up, ran and fell onto my knees again.
Every few seconds, I turned back and looked at the cabin lights. When they were far enough to make me feel safe, I stopped and tried to catch my breath.
I looked in all directions and was amazed to see that no flashlight was coming after me and there were no noises of steps, implying that someone had followed me. Not even a single shout from him hinting he had gotten mad or wanted me to come back.
I knew I was supposed to feel free, but I felt distant.
The memories I had managed to get back increased my hunger for truth and I knew that the memories I had left at what I called home would not satisfy me.
"Are you going to run after me? Why aren't you looking for me?" I couldn’t understand why I called out to him in a loud shout from the darkness.
"Is that really necessary? I'm kind of drunk." He, too, answered with a shout and his quick reply sent me back to my thoughts.
At first, I was afraid that I had exposed my hiding place in the forest, so I ran fast and changed my position. I skipped over some rocks and twigs, but I made sure that I remained in shouting distance from him before I sat back down on the ground.
It would have been simpler if he had tied me back to the bed again. If I’d had no choice but to sit and rebuild the fragments of my life, I wouldn’t have been faced with the impossible choice I had to make in that moment.
How could I choose whether to return voluntarily to the man who had kidnapped me or to take advantage of the opportunity that might never come back and escape from him, which in effect would prevent me from ever revealing the truth? If I left, how would I be able to put my father against the unreliability of some of his stories?
"Why are you letting me go?" I went back to having a loud conversation with him from among the trees, in the dark forest.
"I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you're not really going anywhere."
"You know what I mean, Andrew!" I wondered if I had to change my position again, but it sounded like he wasn’t going to leave his rocking chair on the porch.
"We made a deal, Kate. I'm standing by it."
"Don't you want me to stay? Don’t you want to keep reminding me who I was?"
"Of course I do. I've waited for the moment I won't be just another familiar face for you my whole life. Now that you remember our past, the last thing I want is for you to disappear again."
"So why did you let me run away?" I got angry.
"I didn’t think you'd go. I was sure that after the progress we’ve already made, you would never want to get away from me again."
"Tell me how I disappeared from you the last time. What happened to me, Andrew?"
"We still have a lot to discover before I can safely tell you that, Kate."
"Tell me now, because otherwise, I'm not coming back to you!" I shouted in frustration and ran around the forest again, frantic, changing my position in case he did decided to follow me after all.
It was strange that he didn’t seem mad and didn’t try to keep me as his hostage. I wondered if he was only trying to manipulate me like one of the theories
he had learned. Was I so easy to maneuver for him or did he really know that my desire to find out who I was and where I came from would be bigger and stronger than me and would make me give up the safe return to the life I knew?
"I'm not coming back to you, Andrew."
"That's a risk I chose to take."
"I'm serious!" I felt foolish continuing the discussion with him when I could do as I’d threatened and just run until I hit a main road or another cabin.
"It will be a pity but, from this stage on, I will accept anything you decide to do."
"Andrew!" I stamped my foot angrily, disappointed that he hadn’t helped me to reach a decision.
I’d hoped he would say something blunt. I guess I wanted him to shout or threaten me. I waited for him to do anything that would make me run away for my life, so I wouldn’t feel like I was running away from my childhood love.
"Katarina, I'm not going anywhere. I'll sit and wait for you as I've done for the last twenty years. I promised that I wouldn’t harm you. If the pace with which your life is being revealed is oppressive to you, I am sorry. But I'm only trying to protect you. "
"I hate you," I lied to myself so that he would hear me, even as I knew that, sooner or later, I would give up and return to the cabin.
"You love me!" he shouted louder than before, then, continued in a calmer tone. "You loved me then, you love me now and it doesn’t matter. I know you want me to be the bad guy. You want me to force you back so you can feel better about the fact that you stayed here with me willingly." He was right "That's not going to happen, Katarina. The stage in which I kidnapped you is over. From now on, the choice to stay or walk away is in your hands."
God damn him, he was right.
Not about me loving him, but about me loving to be by his side.
He left the choice in my hands and I left it to my feet.
Just as they had kept me away from him, so too did they carry me back. Within a few minutes, I found myself sitting next to him again on the porch in one of the rocking chairs.
"This is, without a doubt, the stupidest thing I have ever done." I exhaled in frustration as I confessed to him.
"You're in good company, my dear. Your abduction is by far the stupidest thing I've ever done."
