by Alona Jarden
"Would I be better off saying hello to the both of you?" I smiled to the outline of the two men at my feet and they both looked back at me with loving eyes, but they kept silent. They looked at me and filled me with emotions I couldn’t explain.
"You," I placed my finger on my father's drawing. "I'm your daughter, Kate." I looked at the second drawing. "And you," I placed my finger on it before going on. "I'm your daughter, Katarina, right?" I smiled at them, surprisingly relaxed.
I knew. Suddenly, I knew them. Both of them.
Not only did I know them, but I knew they knew me.
Well, of course they did. After all, I was their little girl.
Chapter 19
Mr. Briggs
A few hours after Officer Swenson left my house, I knew it wouldn’t be long before she found out that almost nothing of what I’d said to her was true.
I walked restlessly from one corner of my apartment to another, like prey waiting in its cave for the hunter to put him out of his misery.
"Hello?" I answered her expected phone call, after I let the device ring twice so as not to seem enthusiastic.
"Mr. Briggs?"
"Yes, this is Mr. Briggs speaking."
"May I ask if you're at your house?"
"Yes, I am."
"Can I ask you to stay there for the next half hour?"
"Sure, no problem." I saw no reason to give her any trouble by inventing some false place I was going to be. "Can I ask what this is about?"
"Not right now, sir. I'll answer everything when you get to the station."
"So you want me to stay home or get to the station?" my voice broke in a high octave.
"All I ask of you now is to stay where you are, Mr. Briggs. I want you to stay in your apartment for the next half hour. Can you do that for me?" Her tone of voice left no room for doubt.
I knew that I had exhausted her patience with the half-truths I’d told her, and that whoever she’d sent to bring me to her was on their way, so I prepared myself for what was coming.
To execute my 'Plan B', I walked to the balcony and took the box of memories into my hands. I opened the lid and took out the items that had helped me create a reality that had never existed.
It hadn’t been hard to do while dealing with a five-and-a-half-year-old girl, but as I re-examined each one carefully, I realized it wasn’t going to be so easy this time. I’d never imagined that I would have to justify my credibility to a police investigator. It certainly hadn’t occurred to me that it would be so crucial to finding my only daughter, who had disappeared. And it most certainly didn’t surprise me when some of the things I found in that memories box, were no less than ridiculous.
"What was I thinking?" I blurted out when I read her mother's letter and was filled with frustration, knowing I would have to destroy it.
I wanted Kate's beautiful eyes to read her mother's special words, describing the depth of the love we shared, but I couldn’t risk having Officer Swenson finding it, along with some other documents and pictures that could easily be filed as evidence in her investigation.
All those precious memories I’d saved were too incriminating, thus diverting the searches away from finding Kate.
With a heavy heart, I pulled all those items out. Items I really shouldn’t have kept in the first place. I placed them in a stainless steel bowl and lit them on fire. Passports with my old name, false papers and documents that I had prepared for her curious questions as a child, and pictures that contained a lifetime I wasn’t yet ready to share with my daughter. I suddenly realized that now, having burned them, I never would.
A few minutes later, after doing everything I knew I had to do, I opened the windows to freshen the apartment and looked around the surroundings. I knew that, in a few minutes, the cops would come knocking on my door and that while I was on my way to the police station for interrogation, they would stay there to rummage through my drawers, hoping to discover evidence concerning my darkest secrets.
I wasn’t worried about that. They were not going to find a thing. It all had just vanished in the flames.
"Good luck your search," I wished out loud and laughed alone in the middle of the living room for a few minutes.
At that moment, more than any other moment I’d handled over those past three days, Kate's absence in my life was considerable and painful. She was the one who used to talk to herself out loud and I was the one who laughed at her for it, yet there I was, three days without her and suddenly I was the one talking to myself.
I guess I was going crazy and there was no one there to laugh at me. Where the hell was she?
"Mr. Briggs!" a determined male voice accompanied the loud knocks on my door.
"I'm coming," I called, and walked toward the door.
"It's the Police, sir. Please open the door."
"I said I was coming," I managed to mumble as I pressed the knob and the door opened with the powerful kick of one of those standing behind it.
My body was pressed against the wall behind me and I almost lost my breath from the intensity of it all.
Two policemen grabbed my arms tightly and asked me to accompany them to the police station, hinting that it was in my best interest not to try and resist. I think one of them even read me my rights while two others passed by me and entered my apartment.
Everything happened so quickly.
It was load and a sense of confusion surrounded me. I didn’t know if I should concentrate on what they were saying or try to figure what they didn’t say. I didn’t know whether I should go with them of my own free will or demand to be left at home during the search, which had already begun right before my eyes.
The answer to all my questions quickly became irrelevant. As I watched hands I didn’t know searching the dressers in the living room, feeling naked and helpless, they dragged me out of my home and into the police car.
Half an hour later, I was back at the police station only, unlike before, I was on the wrong side of the interrogation room. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, knowing that I had once stood on its other side, and was filled with frustration.
"Well hello there, Mr. Briggs," Officer Swenson greeted me as soon as she entered the interrogation room and closed the door behind her.
"Hello," I answered reluctantly.
"How was your trip here?"
"Okay."
"Are you limiting yourself to single word answers to my questions?"
"No." I realized I was playing right into her hands so I followed my answer with, "I already told you everything. You said you'd keep looking for Kate. You promised to look further, in all directions, and that you weren’t assuming that I was the one who kidnapped her."
"The situation has changed, Mr. Briggs."
"If you're not going to…"
"I wouldn’t set any conditions if I were you, Mr. Briggs." She sat down in her chair and opened her notebook. "To be honest, if I were you, I'd understand that this is the moment to start telling the whole truth."
"I'm ready to tell you everything, but I beg of you..."
"That's enough." She waved her hand in a startling way and managed to keep me quiet.
Her eyes no longer looked at me with compassion, she no longer tilted her head to the side while asking me how I was dealing with the situation and, if truth be told, she didn’t seem to care how I was all together.
"Mr. Briggs, please state your daughter's name for the record."
"Kate."
"Can you please state her full name?"
"Kate Briggs."
"Was that the name she was born with?"
"No."
"What was the name she was born with?"
"Katarina."
"Her full name please."
"Katarina... Katarina..." I stopped and wondered how deep into the truth I would have to go with my answers, given the fact that I hadn’t done anything to harm Kate and that there was no reason for me to reveal how I had accomplished everything concerning her life.
"Mr. Briggs?" she woke me from my wondering.
"Yes?"
"What was Katarina's full name?"
"I don’t understand. You have all this information in the documents I gave you."
"Oh, you mean the documents stating you adopted Kate when she was a little baby from an orphanage in Costa Rica?"
"Yes," I looked down. "Listen... I understand that you already..."
"No!" her fist landed loudly on the table between us, interrupting me, and her gaze hinted at just how short her patience was for me. "I don’t need you to understand anything, Mr. Briggs. Today, I need you to help me understand." She pulled out the false adoption documents I’d supplied and placed them in front of me. "I'll ask you again, Mr. Briggs. How old was Kate when you adopted her?"
"Okay, Okay… She wasn’t a baby. She was five and a half."
"Finally," she exhaled and placed the tip of her pen back on her notepad. "Now tell me, how did you get this document claiming otherwise?"
"Are you really asking how I obtained a forged document in Costa Rica, Officer Swenson?" I immediately regretted smiling.
"Answer the question, Mr. Briggs."
"There's no problem getting quality forgeries over there. This can’t come as a surprise to you."
"Are you really calling this quality?" She rolled her eyes and made a few notes in her notebook.
I took advantage of the quiet moments and looked up at the lamp hanging from the ceiling. I remembered the last time I’d seen that lamp. I had been sitting on the other side of the mirror, watching as Officer Swenson struck her questions at Professor Thompson. I remembered his measured reactions, the wisecracks he’d blurted out, and I also remembered how her focused gaze had made him realize that if he didn’t answer her questions with the whole truth, he wouldn’t walk away from her as a free man.
"Shall we continue?" she asked when she noticed I’d gotten lost in thought.
"Yes."
"Tell me again, Mr. Briggs, what is the name of the orphanage from which you adopted Kate?"
"They called it St. Mary, but I heard it was closed a few years ago."
"Sure it was. How convenient for you," she chuckled.
"I hope you're not hinting that I had anything to do with an orphanage closing in a country I haven’t visited for over twenty years."
"No, no," she shook her head dramatically, "God forbid, Mr. Briggs. I couldn’t blame you for this without having appropriate evidence to support my claims. As far as I know, you had nothing to do with the closing of the orphanage."
"Okay," I hesitated. "Thank you?"
"With pleasure, Mr. Briggs." She pulled out another document from the folder she held and placed it in front of me. "Can you tell me what is written at the top of this page?"
"It says it's a comprehensive adoption list."
"That's right, Mr. Briggs. Unfortunately for you, and to my delight, St. Mary's orphanage was active for only three years and its overall adoption list, as you can see, is short and easy to review."
"I understand." I looked down, knowing what her next question would be.
"Can you please tell me why I can’t find Katarina's name among the children adopted from St. Mary's orphanage?"
"No."
"Mr. Briggs!" she raised her voice and slammed her fists on the table again, startling me. "Now would be a good time to tell me what you did to Kate."
"I adopted her."
"Mr. Briggs, I'm done playing games with you. Where is Kate?"
"I wasn’t lying about that! I didn’t kidnap her."
"I'll ask again, but believe me, this will be the last time. What did you do to Kate?" She repeated her question and emphasized each and every word as she uttered them.
"You're chasing the wrong man," I continued to answer with surrender.
"We are after a man whose every word has been false. So, with your permission and for Kate's well-being, I demand that you supply at least one answer I will be able to believe."
All I could make out was that they still thought I was the one who'd kidnapped Kate and, if that was the case, the real kidnapper had disappeared with my daughter without leaving any trace.
It was then that I knew.
I knew that I had no choice, nor the possibility, to keep the full truth to myself. The same truth that I had promised her mother I would take to my grave, I now had to share with everyone.
In order to make it clear that I wasn’t the man they were looking for, I had to tell them everything, in the hopes that it would help her.
I hoped that it would help in Kate's search, but I knew it would also lead to my incrimination and that I would have to be ready to defend myself in the face of the consequences of the truth.
"I'm ready to talk, but not before I see a lawyer." A single sentence I murmured indifferently to Officer Swenson caused her to stand up and leave the interrogation room.
Chapter 20
Andrew
"Honey, I'm home!" I called as I walked back into the cabin, like I had the last time I’d left Katrina tied up to the bed. But this time, she didn’t reply.
The first thing that came to mind was that somehow she’d taken advantage of the freedom I’d given her to escape. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was a mistake to skip a few steps in my meticulous plan and hoped I was wrong. I hoped she hadn’t run away from who she once was, to who she thought she was, though I wouldn’t blame her if she had.
I’d known this process wouldn’t be easy for her.
That's why I’d planned to spread it over two weeks. I’d designed gradual steps in order to help her cope with the memories that came back to her. That being said, as I walked into the cabin, I realized that Katarina, as always, didn’t care about anything I asked her to do.
All it took was one look at her to realize she’d gone as far as she wanted against my will, and I had foolishly allowed her to do so.
I knew that if she remembered too many details all at once, she would feel the need to protect herself. If not from me, then from the truth.
"Oh, dear lord!" I gasped when my eyes rested on her beautiful face. "What can I say, Katarina? You may not remember yourself, but I can testify that you haven’t changed at all." I smiled and remained so, frozen, standing and looking at her for a few more seconds, as if she were a rare piece of art.
She layed sound asleep on the floor of the room with many fresh drawings scattered all around her. It wasn’t the first time I’d found her like that.
My eyes moved from one of her sketches to another. I was looking for a specific face among the many buildings, landscapes, half figures and animals she’d drawn and was amazed to see how well she’d managed to embrace my process.
I wanted to see if she’d done as I had requested and sketched her mother's face so that I could move along and show her a picture of her in her arms, but I couldn’t find such a sketch. I had been hoping that drawing would be the stable ground on which we could base the next session of guided imagery in order to bring these two amazing women back to each other, but instead of her mother's face, I found exact sketches of the two men she called 'Dad' and got confused.
How could she recall his face when I hadn’t even mentioned him? I’d left him out consciously and deliberately. I knew very well why it was crucial to keep her father's identity a secret.
I hadn’t directed her steps at the memory of her birthday party toward him on purpose. I hadn’t asked her to look at him, hadn’t asked about him or even mentioned his name.
Unlike with her mother, she’d grown up feeling that she had a father and I was afraid that if I added another male figure that used to be present in her life, it would only send her deeper into the confusion, which was as burdensome as it was.
Before I’d left, I’d asked her to combine two of her answers in the hopes that she would understand I intended her to draw her mother's face. I thought that giving the woman who had given birth to her a face would be relatively simple.
For
me, her discovering her father's face was the greater challenge in the process. I was afraid that his memory would bring an inexhaustible reservoir of questions, and I assumed that it still did, even though she had remembered him without me by her side.
I’d designed a path for her to the truth and, in it, I’d hidden some deliberate deceptions. I actually wanted to make her wonder whether the man she thought was her adoptive father, Mr. Briggs, was actually her biological father.
I thought it would be right to combine the details of his character, as someone who cared for her, and perhaps to lead to a slight hint that he had taken her to another country. Only then had I planned to reveal his true face. But when I saw her real father's face on the drawing sheet, I realized that the truth was not hidden too deeply inside her, if it was hidden at all.
I looked at the two sketches and saw how she’d managed to capture his loving gaze in a precise and chilling manner, as if she had never forgotten him.
"Good morning" I smiled at her as she felt my presence and woke up.
"Hey," she rubbed her eyes. "When did you come back?"
"A few minutes ago." I made sure she saw I was looking at each and every one of her creations. "I see you sent yourself to find some memories without me."
"What do you mean?" She stretched out her muscles, "Ah... No, no, it's nothing. I just drew what came to mind without thinking about anything." She sat up and looked around.
"Without thinking about anything?"
"Yes."
"That's not okay, Kate."
"What's not okay? You wanted me to draw, so I drew."
"Do you recall a detailed explanation of how I designed this process after long consideration? Do you remember that the same path that can enable you to accept the truth may also cause you to reject it?"
"I remember. My God…" She stretched out her arms. "You came back cranky. Who pissed you off?"
"No one pissed me off, but now, after seeing what a productive day you had, I'm a bit sorry I went in the first place." I gestured toward the filled sheets spread around us on the floor. "Maybe I shouldn’t leave you alone anymore?"
